Little Bitty Puzzle Pieces

By PJzallday

Recapitulate

In the shower, Spike was angry and hurt. "You pathetic sod. Let yourself get sucked in again," he chided himself. Moments earlier, he'd awoken: alone in his bed; alone in his room; feeling once again, alone in the world. "You shouldda known you would."

Spike had kept watch, as the last minutes of daylight faded into night through the open drapes. He didn't want to sleep for fear Buffy might slip away. As she slept, he'd listened to the soft familiar hum she made; drunk in her sent which filled the air; savoured the taste of her lingering on his tongue. But eventually, his own exhaustion and the intoxication of Buffy had taken him.

It was late evening — maybe night, he supposed — when he woke to find her gone again. Spike's first reaction was to simply believe he'd had a very vivid dream and that Buffy had yet to arrive at the Hyperion. But no, muscle aches in "all the wrong places" gave credence to the notion that she'd been there. Though the pounding warm water soothed many of them, for the ache in his chest, it did nothing. He'd let himself believe she loved him, believe that when their bodies had intertwined, they were "making love". He should have known when she wriggled away from him to sleep afterward that, in some respects, nothing had really changed between them.

But, of course, something had: he was no longer a vampire. When he'd been one, Spike knew he could take anything Buffy dished out sexually, in the bedroom — or wherever their past trysts had found them. Now he was only a man. No super-strength; no preternatural endurance. He had to breathe; he needed time to recover. Standing in the shower, he wondered if he'd "measured up" then he realized he'd become "Captain Cardboard".

Spike remembered talking with Riley Finn after discovering the commando had been frequenting "two-bit vampire trulls" — but not before he'd shown Buffy just what her soldier boy was up to when he wasn't with her. Oddly, Finn was the first person to whom Spike had confessed he had feelings for Buffy. And now Spike was Riley.

"Sometimes I envy you so much it chokes me. And sometimes I think I got the better deal. To be that close to her and not have her... To be all alone even when you're holding her... Feeling her... Feeling her beneath you... Surrounding you... The scent ... No, you got the better deal."

Simply being with Buffy hadn't been enough for Riley and it wasn't enough for Spike. He'd had her body before — lots of times, in just about every imaginable position — but even back then, he wanted more from her. Even the soulless demon wanted- needed to believe she loved him.

Then he recalled another time with Riley: the guy had blown into town and, for whatever reason, that had sent Buffy to Spike looking for... love? But when the black Kevlar clad man burst into Spike's crypt with allegations against Spike of wrong doing, Buffy was quick to believe him.

Shortly thereafter, Buffy ended their affair. "I do want you. Being with you makes things... simpler for a little while... I'm using you. I can't love you. ... I'm sorry, William."

Smacking his palms against the tile, Spike growled. He couldn't bear to go through all that again; he was going home. As he shut off the water, he threw open the shower curtain.

"So-"

"ACK!" he squealed, startled by Buffy's appearance in the bathroom.

"Sorry," she said awkwardly. "I... ah... didn't think you'd mind."

He was still upset, and was now also embarrassed, so without a word, he modestly reached for a towel and climbed out of the tub.

Buffy's brow wrinkled perplexedly at his silence and standoffishness. "I brought up some dinner," she offered, motioning out to the main room. "I was starved after..." She grinned coquettishly. "Thought you might be too."

Spike couldn't contain a relieved chuckle. "Could you give us a minute, luv?" he asked, nodding for her to leave the bathroom. When she'd gone, closing the door behind, he stood at the counter. Looking in the mirror, he smiled, tight-lipped, hardly able to believe she'd come back. With a bewildered huff and a shake of his head, Spike grabbed his jeans and slipped them on. Then, as he fluffed his damp hair with the towel, he took a deep breath for courage and went to rejoin Buffy.

***

"Have you seen Mr. Giles?" Andrew asked around the Council's Headquarters. No one had seen nor heard from him all day. He checked Giles' office, but there was no answer when he knocked and the door was locked. "Something's wrong," the young man concluded. Scurrying back to his own desk, he fumbled in his top drawer. Master key in hand, he returned to his boss' office.

Cautiously, Andrew unlocked the door, pushed it open then poked his head in. "Mr. Giles?" he called with a nervous hoarse voice. He flipped the light switch. Scanning the room, everything looked normal enough. Apprehensively, he approached his boss' desk — fearful Giles would be lying in a pool of blood on the floor behind it. To Andrew's relief, he wasn't. But where was he?

***

"So you came here because Xander suggested that... that Angel might be able to help you?" Buffy reiterated, surprised by Spike's story.

The two sat at the end of his bed — Buffy, cross-legged; Spike, with a foot tucked up against the inside of his opposite thigh, the other leg hanging off the mattress — separated by a dinner tray.

"Yeah." Spike smirked thoughtfully at the irony as he took a bite of his sandwich. "So what about you, luv?" he asked, being purposefully vague. He wanted to hear about her life since they'd parted, but feared what she might tell him, given what he already knew from talking with Lorne.

"Well... um... After Sunnydale, Dawn and I moved down here," she began.

"How's she doing?"

"Oh, good," Buffy assured. "She's been working hard at school — hopes to graduate next year so she can start really working for the Council."

"The Council? But I thought-"

"Giles is rebuilding it," she explained.

Spike detected something odd in her tone. "So you and Rupert still not gettin' on?" he assumed. "What's he done now?"

Agitated, Buffy dropped her fork with a clank onto her salad plate and jumped off the bed. "It's not what he's done now; it's all just more of the same."

"What d' ya mean?"

"He killed Angel," she replied bitterly.

Stunned and confused, Spike looked at her. "But I thought... I mean, Fred and them told me that Slayers-"

"Giles' Slayers!" she snapped. "They were here to fight some big evil and he told me to stay away. It wouldn't surprise me one bit if he'd sent them looking for Angel. He didn't approve of us," she remarked bitterly as she rolled her eyes. Pacing, she ranted, "He claimed those girls needed to 'gain some confidence' and that they wouldn't be able to get that with me around. He just wanted me out of the way! He wanted me gone so that he could kill Angel! It's just like when he plotted with Wood to kill you!"

Listening to her lament over Angel was difficult for Spike, but he held himself together. "Easy, luv. I'm on your side, remember?" Spike said, stepping toward her.

She smiled at him, and squeezed his hand. "I know."

"So that's why you've brought this lot here, then?" he asked. "To put them up against some sort of... tribunal of their peers?"

"What?" She backed off.

"To decide on a fair punishment for what they've done," he explained.

"What they've..." She shook her head. "They're here to learn — learn how to control their power."

Spike was floored. "You can't be serious!" he protested. "Buffy, you've got murderers here! I'm not just talking about the ones that did Angel either."

"Well sure, but Faith-"

"Not Faith. Way I understand it, she did her time," he countered. "I know there's at least one girl in that group who beat an innocent woman to death. For a sweater."

"What are you-" It was making sense now. "That girl in the lobby!"

"She killed a friend of mine," he said defensively.

Jealous, Buffy repeated, "A friend?"

"Yeah," Spike huffed. "She was a good kind decent woman — a nurse. Helped me out a lot. Encouraged me to find out who I was." Sarcastically, he noted, "No worries though, luv. Even without remembering exactly who you were, she never stood a chance with you in my heart."

Buffy gasped; he'd hurt her. Under different circumstances, Buffy might have been flattered. But Spike neither meant what he'd said in an endearing way, nor had she taken it so.

Off her grieved expression, he apologized, "Oh bugger... I'm such a jerk. Buffy-"

"No no. You're right," she replied, holding up her hands to stop him. "A lot of these girls are dangerous. A lot of them have done some pretty bad things — including kill people. But Spike, don't you see? I have to fix this. I made them Slayers. I have to make them understand what that means." When he reached and cupped her cheek, smiling, she clasped her hand over his and added, "I have to try."

***

They awoke to the ring of Buffy's cell phone.

"Shit! Have you seen my jacket?" she asked as she rummaged through the bedding. "Oh! Never mind. Here it is. Hello?"

"Oh Buffy! Glad I caught you," Andrew said.

"What is it?"

"It's about Mr. Giles."

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