Falling Into You
By Spike SpeigelUnder Twilight
Not even an hour had passed since they had left Doc’s place. Buffy was waiting at the entrance of the hospital for Spike and Giles. She wanted to go back for Giles, but thought better of herself. Spike said that he’d get Giles to the hospital, and she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. She felt sick to her stomach as she did this, though. After all they had gone through to get to the point of respect, of trust, Doc’s lies tore the foundation down. And Buffy wasn’t sure if it’d be possible to ever get that back. She stood in the cold night, her arms wrapped about her chest, the little voice in the back of her head saying that he’d come. He always came. Always.
Before she could think of anything else, Spike and Giles emerged into her view, Giles leaning against Spike for balance. She thought her eyes were playing tricks on her as they came closer, because it looked as though Spike’s arm was bloodied. But he made no indication that he was hurt. He just walked toward her, his emotions hidden to her. Buffy spoke as soon as they walked up to her. “How is he?” Giles chuckled through the pain.
“I’ll live. Although, I don’t feel it right at the moment.” Buffy moved to Giles’ other side, gently draping his arm over her shoulder.
“How’d you get away from Doc?” Spike spoke this time.
“You don’t have to worry about him anymore.” Giles was about to say something, but saw the look on Spike’s face. He left it alone. Buffy, on the other hand.
“We should go back later. Try and figure out…” Spike spoke, a hint of urgency in his voice.
“Let’s get Rupert taken care of first. Then we’ll talk.” Buffy was about to object, but knew that he was right when her eyes fell on Giles. He didn’t look like hell. He looked worse. They walked Giles into the waiting area, where Doris was waiting once again, this time with a wheelchair. Doris wanted to know why all of Buffy’s friends were coming in battered and bruised, but she got the same answer. Muggers, gangs, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. She would have questioned further, but the condition of the first friend had made her put aside her suspicions.
Spike and Buffy sat Giles into the wheelchair, Buffy speaking. “I’ll be right there, okay? I want to talk to Spike first.” Giles nodded, a small smile on his face. Buffy and Spike watched as Doris wheeled Giles away to the emergency room. Then there was just the two of them. An awkward silence before Buffy spoke again, her eyes on Spike’s arm. “Did he hurt you?” Spike looked at her quizzically before he noticed that she was looking at his arm. The same one he’d plunged into Doc’s dark heart.
“No worries. It’s not mine.” Buffy offered him a timid smile, still worrying about the blood on his jacket.
“So, did you get what you needed from him?” She meant Doc. Spike frowned, looking at the floor, not wanting to look at her.
“No.” He didn’t want to be here with her. Not now. Not after what he had done. So he did the only thing he could. He walked away from her. Buffy looked on, shocked at what he did. She followed him, Spike almost cursing her for it.
“Where are you going?” Spike didn’t look back.
“Going to look in on the boy. Looked like hell when you got him out.” It was a lie. He had no idea where Xander was. He just wanted to walk away, to clear his head, to die. Buffy caught him in the lie.
“What are you going to do? Check every room until you find him?” Spike turned around, noting Buffy’s smirk. He awkwardly smiled back.
“Room number, pet?” Buffy was about to go into banter mode, but saw that his smile had quickly faded from his face, a sullen look replacing it. She decided to let him go. She’d be able to talk to him later.
“Room 123.” He nodded, then turned back down the hall. Before he could walk away, he felt Buffy’s hand on his arm, gently squeezing. He closed his eyes in anguish, wishing he were dreaming. Wishing that he never met her. Wishing that he were dead. She stepped in front of him, a look of worry on her face. “If you’re up to it, I could use your help with Doc.” He knew that Doc’s words had gotten to her. Spike also believed him. Doc would have killed everyone she held dear, if he hadn’t gotten in the way. He looked into her eyes, a look of sorrow overcoming him.
“You don’t have to worry about him anymore, Buffy.” He turned away once again, walking down the hall. Buffy called after him, a tint of worry in her voice.
“Why don’t I have to worry?” Spike never turned back.
“Because I killed the son of a bitch.” He walked away from her, Buffy standing there speechless, unsure of what she should feel.
Spike stood in front of the door, peering through the glass partition in the wooden door. Anya was already there, sitting by Xander’s side. He didn’t want to interrupt him, but he didn’t know when he’d get another chance to say his piece. He gently rapped his knuckles against the wood, Anya turning to him. She waved him in, a small smile playing on her face.
Spike slowly entered the room, closing the door behind him. This was the first time he had seen Anya since that night at Georgio’s and was the first time he had actually seen Xander. Well, he had seen Xander back at Doc’s. But as for actually talking, this was his first time. Spike wondered in the back of his mind when exactly the last time was talking to the young man lying in the bed, evidently in pain as he tried not to breathe too deeply. Spike walked over to Anya, she getting up in kind and gently hugged him. Spike was taken aback by the woman’s behavior. That was, until she spoke.
“Thank you.” Spike awkwardly hugged her back, not knowing what exactly to do.
“For what?” Anya slowly pulled away from him, looking gently, warmly into his eyes.
“For saving Xander. For not letting him get killed.” Spike shot her a smirk.
“Then you should be thanking Buffy.” He glanced over to Xander, who was now looking at the interaction between his girlfriend and his…his what? “Woulda left him if I had my way. Ain’t that right, Harris.” Spike looked over to Xander, seeing the small grin playing on his face.
“You’re all heart, Spike.” Spike noted the name. Buffy must have told them everything. He moved past Anya, standing to her side now.
“So, how much did she tell you?” Xander was about to speak but a bout of coughing prevented him. The pain was evident on his face as it contorted with every cough. Anya looked worryingly at her fiancé, her hand gently caressing his cheek. When he stopped, Anya spoke.
“She told us that you got some of your memories back. But not all of them.” Spike nodded, still wondering if Buffy had told them everything. He turned his gaze to Anya.
“You mind giving me and your beau a few minutes?” Anya looked at Spike, confusion on her face. However, she reluctantly yielded to Spike’s request after seeing the look of sincerity and concern on Spike’s.
“Oh. Okay.” She leaned over to Xander, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “See you in a little bit, okay?” Xander responded by offering her a weak smile. She walked past Spike, stopping by the door. “You want anything from the vending machine, Spike?” He turned back to Anya.
“I’m fine, luv. But thanks.” Anya offered an awkward smile before leaving the two men in the hospital room. Spike walked over to Xander, now occupying the chair that Anya had pulled over to the side of the bed. He gave Xander a once over before speaking. “So, how you feeling mate?” Spike already knew the answer. He was surprised that he was still conscious after the vicious torture Doc had inflicted on him. Who knew the boy had stones?
“Like someone used me for a punching bag.” Xander winced as he tried to position himself to see Spike more clearly. Spike, noting his movement, pulled the chair back, into Xander’s frame of view. “Thanks.”
“Wasn’t nothing.” A moment of silence between the two before Spike spoke again. “Doc’s dead.” Xander’s look went from one of pain to one of disbelief.
“How?”
“Did it myself.” Xander offered him a wry smile.
“I figured that Sherlock. Not like Giles was gonna do anything.” Spike grinned at Xander, picturing Giles killing Doc by means of boredom. “So, how’d you do it?” Spike eyed Xander curiously, then spoke.
“You sure you wanna know? With you being all nicked up and all. Might upset you.” Spike noted the look of desperation now on Xander’s face.
“After what that son of a bitch did to me and Giles, I could use a pick me up right about now.” Spike softly chuckled, his right leg now on his left knee.
“Alright then. Did it all dramatic like.”
“Like Star Wars dramatic? Or Usual Suspects dramatic?” Spike shook his head. Xander was actually enjoying this, judging by the smirk on his face and the lilt in his voice.
“Not sure mate. Never seen ‘em.” Xander was the one to shake his head now.
“Man, talk about deprivation.” Both men looked at each other before sharing a laugh. Xander held his side as he did so. “We’re gonna have to remedy that one day.” Then an awkward moment of silence. Did Xander just show compassion to the demon? That wasn’t right. No one knew what Spike was now. Not even Spike. Spike spoke once again.
“Right. One day.” Spike moved his leg back to the ground, leaning in closer to Xander. “Shoved my hand right through the bugger’s chest.” Xander spoke.
“So? I shoved a sword into his chest. That didn’t do much.” Xander thought about his last statement. “Actually, it didn’t do anything.” Spike nodded, remembering back to the night when he and Xander had gone over to Doc’s to get the scrolls. Xander was pretty quick with the blade; he had to admit.
“Haven’t told you the best part.” Xander’s eyes widened, almost like a young child waiting anxiously for Christmas day to come. “Split the bastard’s head in two.” Xander tried to contemplate his words they sunk in. Then he smiled.
“Did he scream in pain?” Spike couldn’t believe he was actually having this conversation with Xander. This wasn’t why he was here. But if it made him feel better, why deny him?
“Don’t think he could. My hand got intimate with his vocal cords after all.” Xander frowned, almost disappointed. “However, the look on his face.” Xander’s eyes looked at him in anticipation.
“Yeah?”
“He looked like a bloody poofter. All, ‘Oh no, this can’t be happening. Please, don’t let this be happening.’” Xander gently laughed, knowing that he shouldn’t be. But he couldn’t help himself. The bastard was actually dead. And Spike was the one that had done it. Xander spoke once again, a small smile on his face.
“You ask me? Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.” Spike genuinely laughed at Xander’s witty remark.
“You got that right.” Another shared laugh between the two men. After the laughter subsided, Spike spoke once again. “Actually, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.” Xander’s smile slowly faded from his face, a look of worry replacing it after hearing Spike’s serious tone.
“What is it?” Spike leaned back into the chair, his eyes still on Xander.
“You care for Buffy, right?” Xander was genuinely confused by the question. He answered nonetheless, curious to see where Spike was going with this.
“Of course. She’s like one of my best friends.” Xander could see the troubled look on Spike’s face now. “Why are you asking me this?” The answer wasn’t what he was expecting.
“I want you to look after her then.” Xander tried to sit up at this point, his ribs preventing him. He settled back into his original position, his voice somber.
“What is this about, Spike?” Spike looked down, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular.
“Giles and I’ll be going back to England in a few weeks. Once he heals up enough to travel.” Spike waited for Xander to speak, but he didn’t. Spike, feeling uncomfortable with the silence, continued. “I didn’t get the answers I needed from the old man. So the only place left for me is the Council.” Spike looked up, seeing the confusion painted across Xander’s face. Of course he was confused. He didn’t know about Spike’s time in London. Or about Doc’s information about the Council imprisoning him while back there. The only one that knew now was him. And eventually Giles once he had a chance to fill him in on the situation. “Long story short. The Council has information I need. I’m going to get it.” Xander nodded, only imagining what Spike was going through right now. The holes in his memory must be frustrating as hell.
“But how long’s that going to take?” Xander eyed Spike perceptively. Spike wasn’t telling him the whole truth.
“No idea, mate. No idea at all.” Spike let out a deep breath, a sigh. “So, will you look after her then?” Xander was about to continue his line of questioning but saw that this talk was definitely troubling Spike. He decided it was best to leave it alone for now. Xander nodded.
“Yeah. I’ll look after her.” Spike offered him a small smile.
“Thanks, Xander.” Spike chuckled at this.
“What’s so funny?”
“This. Me thanking you.” Spike got up from the chair, now standing by the foot of the bed. “If my memory’s not playing tricks on me, I could swear that you hate me more than that wanker Angel.” Xander grinned.
“I did. Hell, I still do.” Spike nodded, a grin on his face.
“I don’t much care for you too, Harris. But thanks.” An unspoken understanding between the two men and Spike turned around, heading for the door. Before he could turn the handle, Xander’s voice stopped him.
“You’re not coming back, are you?” Spike stood there for a moment before looking back over his shoulder.
“I don’t know.” Before Spike could speak again, Xander interrupted him.
“That’s bull. And you know it. Why else would you ask me, of all people, to look after the Slayer?” Spike frowned at the boy’s perceptiveness. Buffy could take care of herself without Xander. She’d been doing it for a long time now. Ever since he died. Even before he died. “Why would you leave her? Why now?”
“Told ya. Have things that need knowing.”
“And after you get your precious information, there’s no reason for you not to come back.” Spike was about to interrupt Xander’s narrative, but Xander spoke before he had a chance to. “Unless you don’t want to. In that case, you’re worse than Doc.” This made Spike turn back around to face the injured Xander.
“You got a lot of gall to even compare me to that piece of…”
“She went through hell when you died.” Spike felt his throat constrict, his thoughts jumbled now. “She didn’t even take it this hard when Angel died. You know that?” Spike placed his hands in his pockets, feeling the pack of gum. Her gum. “She didn’t stop crying for over a month. It was almost two before she even went back to slaying by herself. We’d all go with her because we knew she wanted to die.” Spike shook his head, not wanting to believe what Xander was telling him. “She wanted to be with you.”
“I didn’t know.” Xander could hear the uncertainty in his hushed voice now.
“Well. Now you know.” Spike looked over Xander for a bit before turning back around.
“Just look after her.” Spike could hear the hate in Xander’s voice once again. Almost like it was old times. No. Not old times. Back then; Xander didn’t really have a reason to hate Spike. Now he did.
“You son of a bitch. She loves you, and you’re going to leave her.” Spike didn’t turn back this time.
“Don’t have a choice.” He paused, thinking of the best way to say what he had to say. “I don’t remember her ever loving me. All I really remember is her hating me and me hating her.” He took a deep breath before he spoke again. “I don’t remember ever really loving her.” By the silence in the room, he knew that Xander finally understood what he was going through. “Until I’m sure about all of my memories, I’ve no right being here.” And with that, he stepped out of the room, leaving Xander to ponder his last words.
“How you feeling?” Giles slowly turned his head on the pillow to see Buffy sitting next to him, a look of concern on her face. Giles whispered, only for the fact that his body would betray him if he didn’t.
“Better than you look.” Buffy looked at him quizzically before she smiled.
“That obvious?” Giles nodded. “So, what happened? After Xander and I left?” She had to know if it was true. If Doc was really dead. And if Spike had really delivered the deathblow. Because if he did, that would mean that things were different now. That he was different. Giles noted the worry still in her eyes as she smiled.
“Nothing much to tell really. Doc threatened to kill us. So Spike killed him first.” Giles shook his head at this point, his words not matching with his thoughts. “No, that’s not right. I think Spike didn’t much care for being the old man’s puppet.” His eyes turned back to Buffy, noting the concern still there. “I guess that’s why he attacked you in the cemetery. He thought you were trying to control him as well.” Buffy’s look turned from one of concern to one of shock.
“He told you?” Giles’ brow furrowed.
“Yes. Everything.” Buffy didn’t want anyone to know about what had happened in the cemetery. Partly because she didn’t want the group to shun him once again. And partly because she didn’t want to believe it herself. That some part of Spike wanted her dead. Hated her.
“Why would he…” Before she could finish the question, Giles answered.
“Because he knew the only way I’d help him was if he was honest with me.” Giles chuckled softly while Buffy looked on, unsure of what he was talking about. “Before Doc died, he told Spike that the Council had some part in his resurrection.” Another chuckle. “Funny. There’s no way I would have known about the cemetery. But he told me.” Giles slowly shook his head in disbelief. Whoever this person was, it didn’t feel like Spike. But it was. “And I don’t think you would have told me either.” Buffy didn’t like where this was going.
“Why do you say that?” Her emotions were once again in turmoil. She felt like she was once again keeping secrets. First, her initial trysts with Spike. Now, her encounter in the cemetery. She felt like it was all unraveling once again. Like she was pushing him away again. Like she was ashamed of him again.
“Because somewhere inside you is a part that’s afraid of what we’ll think if we ever found out that Spike tried to kill you.” Buffy was about to respond but Giles interrupted her. “You needn’t fear what we think. You’re an adult now. We have no say on your life. Better or worse, it’s your life to live.” Buffy turned her gaze to the floor, ashamed of what her Watcher had said. The funny part was, it was all true. She always needed their approval. That was the reason why she never fully accepted Spike. That was the reason she never allowed herself to love him. Not until it was too late. Not until he was gone.
“Giles.” She had no words. Damn him for being so perceptive. She felt a hand on her forearm, gently squeezing. She looked up, seeing Giles gently smiling at her.
“You love him, don’t you?” Buffy slowly nodded, a look of sorrow on her face. “Then you should tell him.” Another moment of silence before Buffy spoke.
“I don’t think he loves me anymore.” She took a deep breath to steady herself before she continued. “After the cemetery, he wouldn’t even look at me. I think he hates me for doing this to him.”
“Doing what?” Buffy answered truthfully.
“For complicating his life.” Giles gently laughed. Buffy looked on, definitely puzzled by his behavior.
“Don’t think I’ve ever seen a relationship that wasn’t marred by complications.” Buffy gently smiled. “However, I think you should tell him before we leave.” Buffy’s smile vanished from her face as she heard the words.
“What are you talking about?” Giles hesitated before continuing.
“Spike and I are going back to England.” He could see the panic on her face now.
“For how long?” Giles could see that she was definitely troubled by this bit of news. She didn’t want Spike to leave. How things change.
“I’d imagine until he gets the information he needs from the Council.” Buffy let out a discontented sigh.
“Then I’ll never see you two ever again.” Giles softly chuckled.
“Well, I don’t think Spike will put up with being led around.” Giles smirked as he spoke. “He’ll probably pull out Quentin’s fingernails until he gets what he wants.” Buffy and Giles shared a laugh at the image. When the laughter subsided, Buffy spoke, worry tinting her voice.
“You’ll look after him, right?” Buffy thought that she would have to explain to Giles what she meant. However, Giles knew what she was talking about.
“Of course I will. Although I doubt he needs my protection.” Buffy nodded, agreeing with Giles. “I promise, Buffy. I won’t let anything bad happen to him.” Buffy gently smiled at him.
“Thank you, Giles.” She then laid her head down on his arm, Giles gently squeezing her shoulder. She didn’t know why, but she could feel it. She was losing him all over again. And she still hadn’t told Spike how she really felt. She had to tell him before he left.
She felt his arms around her waist, his mouth nuzzling against the nape of her neck. She softly smiled, welcoming the sensation he was introducing to her. Her hands went to his, holding him to her stomach.
“Mmm, that’s nice.”
“Well, can’t help it. You taste so good.” She felt him smile against her neck, his lips trailing kisses down to her shoulder. She turned her head to the side, looking up at him. Into his dark blue pools.
“I missed you.” She gently pulled his hands from about her waist, slowly maneuvering herself so she was on her back, looking up at him.
“I missed you too, pet.” They looked at each other for a moment before Spike lowered his head, gently kissing her. Her hands moved around his neck, pulling him closer to her. Their mouths and tongues intermingled, moans escaping their lips when they needed to breathe. Buffy slowly pulled away, looking into his eyes.
“Make love to me.” He smirked at her.
“Again? Luv, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to kill me.” She softly laughed, a smile genuinely playing across her face.
“What can I say? I love killing you with kindness.” Spike looked down at her, a smile on his lips. He lowered himself for another kiss but stopped before he could. She noted the look of sorrow on his face now.
“Or, killing me like you always wanted to.” Buffy didn’t understand what he meant until she followed his eyes in between their bodies, to his chest. Her eyes widened in horror, seeing the stake protruding from his chest, her hand clutching it.
“Spike?” She felt the blood flowing down the wooden stake, onto her hand. It felt warm. It made her sick to her stomach. She looked back up, expecting him to be furious with her. However, the look was what one she didn’t expect. It was one of love.
“It’s okay, Buffy.” He gently caressed her hand, both now covered in blood. His blood. “I know you never loved me. Was good while it lasted though, huh?” Before she could speak, his body began to deteriorate, becoming dark. The last thing she saw was the smile on his face before he exploded into a cloud of dust and ashes.
“Spike!” Her eyes flew open, her body rising up to a sitting position. She surveyed her surroundings, looking for him. As she looked around the room, she realized that it was a dream. Another dream. Another dream about him. About killing him. Buffy took a deep breath, her hands running through her hair. Sweat trickled down her temples even though the room was cooled by the air conditioning. She tossed the sheet to the side, looking over to the nightstand.
“One twenty.” Her legs swung to the side of the bed, a small sigh escaping her lips. It had been over a week since she last saw him. When the nightmares started. He had all but told her to stay away from him. Well, he hadn’t say ‘Stay away from me.’ But his gestures told her as much. He fidgeted when she tried to touch him. He looked away when their gaze locked. He never initiated a conversation. She finally had Spike back but felt further from him than ever. She harshly chuckled at the irony. Once upon a time she couldn’t stand being around him. Now she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
She got up from the bed, walking over to the dresser. She pulled out a pair of sweatpants and pulled them on, her shirt top falling over the waist. She slid on a pair of sneakers, disregarding socks. She needed to get out. She needed to clear her head. She needed to stop killing him in her dreams.
Buffy walked through the streets, walking toward nothing in particular. The streets were essentially vacant barring an occasional vagrant or stray animal. As she continued walking, she looked around, noting that the surroundings were becoming familiar. Well, most of Sunnydale was familiar to her, but this was a different kind of familiar. It was a familiar that she didn’t want to put up with right about now. She stopped as soon as her eyes fell on the building. Buffy frowned, knowing that it was a bad idea to be here.
“Stupid subconscious.” Buffy stood in front of the entrance before walking toward the gate. “Stupid idea, Buffy. Very stupid idea.” Before she could comprehend what she had just said, Buffy had walked into the complex, now making her way up the stairs. She didn’t know how she ended up here, but here she was. In front of the door. “Number 220.” She debated whether she should knock on the door when it swung open. And there he was. Standing there in front of her, a look of surprise on his face.
“Something I can do for you, luv?” Buffy stared at him for a moment, her eyes focusing on his tousled hair. Then they moved down to his torso. His naked torso. Spike spoke again, this time a small laugh covering his voice. “Slayer?” She turned her gaze to his face once again, noting the smile on his face. She needed to regain some composure.
“How’d you know I was out here?”
“Heard you scraping your shoe outside the door.” Buffy followed his eyes downward, seeing that her right foot was gently moving back and forth against the concrete floor. Buffy tucked her foot behind her left leg, wanting to quiet it. Even with his memories hampered, he still knew how she behaved when she was nervous. His smile relaxed, but it was still evident as he spoke again. “You okay, pet?”
“Um, yeah.” She lied. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“So you decided to come and wake me up?” She smiled at him, Spike returning it in kind.
“Doesn’t look like you were sleeping.” She kept on looking at his face for fear that if she looked anywhere else, her eyes would betray her and go back to his chest. His chiseled chest, his shapely arms, his…Bad Buffy. Very bad. She stumbled for words before Spike spoke.
“Come in. Maybe you can figure out why you’re here if you sit down.” He shot her a smirk, moving away from the door. Buffy eyed him curiously before she stepped inside, her arm grazing his. She missed touching him that it hurt. She needed to hide her emotions though, before anything awkward happened.
“So, you remember being a jerk, huh?” He chuckled softly as he closed the door behind him.
She made her way to the living room, Spike following close behind. Too close for her. She could actually feel heat emanating from him. And it made her feel so alive. So wanting. Buffy moved to the armchair, sitting slowly while she looked around the apartment. This was the first time she was actually in here. She was curious as to how he lived. Spike walked past her, moving into one of the side rooms. “Be right back. Gonna throw a shirt on.” Buffy nodded, cursing him in her mind for being civil. As he disappeared into the side room, most likely his bedroom, Buffy’s eyes scanned the new surroundings.
There was the armchair, a couch and a coffee table situated close to her person. Looking to her right, her eyes fell upon the entertainment cabinet. Buffy got up from the chair, walking over to it. The television was on, Spike watching some cheesy black and white horror movie. One with a vampire. Buffy amusingly smiled before pressing the power button. Her eyes moved to his stereo system. However, it wasn’t a compact disc player. “A turntable?” Buffy slowly opened the glass doors to the cabinet, thumbing through the records stacked underneath the turntable. Sex Pistols. Velvet Underground. The Clash. Iggy Pop. The Ramones. Figures. Even with a shaky memory, Spike could remember listening to punk rock. Especially British punk rock. She continued flipping through the records, her eyes falling onto the same genre. That was, until she got to the last record. She gently pulled it up from the case, not believing what she was seeing. “Bette Midler?”
Her mind went back to her freshman year of college. When the Initiative had implanted Spike with his chip. The one that prevented him from harming humans. The same year Willow conjured a spell on her friends. The same one that led to her and Spike planning their wedding. She turned the sleeve over, scanning the song list. Sure enough, it was there. Wind Beneath My Wings. The same song she wanted for the first dance. For their first dance as man and wife. The noise behind her startled her, making her quickly shove the record back into the case. As she turned around, she saw Spike leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed, a smirk on his face.
“Find anything interesting, luv?” Buffy noted that he was wearing a black tee shirt now. One that showed off his shapely physique. Buffy shook the image from her mind. The image of her tearing that same shirt off him on many a night. She smiled awkwardly at him, wondering if he knew if she found his secret. After all, there was no way Spike could honestly like Bette Midler.
“Honestly, I don’t know how you can listen to the same music over and over and over.” Spike moved from the doorframe, walking slowly toward her.
“Oh, yeah. Like that boy band crap’s any better?” She smirked at him. Buffy definitely wasn’t a fan of the whole teen pop phase that was stifling the music industry nowadays.
“Well, no. But there are other British acts out there that actually sound melodic.” Spike smiled at her, inquisitiveness on his face.
“Enlighten me then.” Buffy closed the glass doors before proceeding closer to him, a glint in her eye. If he wanted to challenge her, she had no choice to accept it.
“Well, there’s Radiohead.”
“Please. Blokes don’t know what the hell instruments they’re playing. Sounds like a buncha cats screeching.” Buffy shook her head. Okay.
“Blur. Oasis.”
“Next.” Buffy sighed. She had to pull out the big guns.
“The Beatles.” Spike was about to disagree when Buffy started in. “Even you can’t fault Sergeant Pepper’s.” Spike stood there, a look of amusement and shock on his face.
“You know Sergeant Pepper?” Buffy smiled. She had just won. It felt almost like old times. “Thought you woulda been more of a modern rock fan.”
“Giles let me listen to it. Actually, he forced me to when I wouldn’t stop playing my Dave Matthews CD while we were training.” Spike ruefully smiled, imagining the Slayer kickboxing to Dave Matthews while Giles was gritting his teeth. “Actually, I really liked it. But I’d never tell Giles that.” Spike looked at her, noting the serenity in her voice. “A Day in the Life really spoke to me.”
“Why’s that, pet?” She didn’t notice that he was now standing in front of her because her gaze was now on the ground as she recalled the memory.
“Just reminded me that no matter how crappy my life got, other people have their own problems. Kinda made me feel better, that I wasn’t the only one with a screwed up life.”
“Yeah, that song gets to me too.” She looked up, her eyes falling onto his. He was so close now. Spike sensed the awkwardness of the situation so he spoke. “So, you ready to see them?” Buffy looked at him quizzically now. “The flowers.” Buffy’s smile slowly emerged on her face. He remembered that she wanted to see them.
“You mean those on the counter aren’t them?” Buffy’s eyes moved to the flowers lining the counter that separated the dining room and kitchen. Spike softly chuckled.
“No, luv. Those are just for decoration.” Spike’s head tilted to the direction he wanted Buffy to proceed. “I’ll show you where I keep the real batch.” Buffy nodded and walked in front of him, toward the glass sliding doors to the right of the dining room.
As Buffy stepped out into the patio area, her breath caught in her throat. She could see some of the flowers from behind the glass door. But standing there, in the midst of the veritable jungle that surrounded the metal frame of the patio, she was amazed. It was a symphony of colors in the moonlight. Roses. Red, yellow, and white. Daisies. Poinsettias. Tulips. And several others she couldn’t identify covered the outer edges of the patio area. Spike stepped behind her, a small grin on his face. “So, whaddya think?” Buffy kept her eyes on the flowers, illuminated by the moonlight.
“They’re beautiful.” She walked forward to a batch of red roses, slowly inhaling the aroma. “You did all this?” Spike walked to her side, his hands in his pockets.
“Man’s gotta have a hobby, right?” Buffy turned to face him, noting the small smile on his face.
“Yeah, but this is just…” She didn’t know what the right word should be. Amazing. Magnificent. Fantastic. They all paled in comparison to what she was feeling now, standing amongst the foliage. Buffy let out a gentle chuckle.
“Something funny, pet?” Buffy turned her gaze back to the roses.
“Not funny. Just…wow. Never in a million years would I picture you like this.” Spike was curious now.
“Like what?”
“Creating something this beautiful.” She turned back to look at him. The look in his eyes seemed familiar. Seemed almost loving. After a moment of silence, Spike spoke.
“Don’t think I’ve ever gotten as good a compliment as that. Thanks, Slayer.” Buffy genuinely smiled at him.
“You deserve it.” She grinned at him. “And you’re welcome.” Spike nodded his head, then moved to the front railing. Buffy followed him, both standing there, looking out into the illuminated darkness. “So, when are you leaving?” Spike turned to see the inquisitiveness on her face. “For England.”
“Oh. Day after tomorrow.” Buffy looked down, a frown on her face. So soon. Time really did have a way of playing games with you.
“Have you packed yet?” Spike shook his head, not looking at her.
“Not yet. Not much to pack though.”
“Sure there is. There’s clothes, grooming accessories, camera, film…” Spike interrupted her.
“Camera?”
“Yeah. So you have pictures to show us when you get back.” Pictures. She wanted pictures and he wasn’t sure if he was even coming back. Not now. Not with his memories conflicted. Especially every time he saw her. Especially now. Spike, not wanting her to feel his insecurity, decided to play along.
“Right. Won’t forget that. I’m sure the Council will love me knowing that I’m taking photos for the Slayer.” Buffy gently laughed.
“Well, seeing as how they never invite me over, it’s the least they could do.” Spike grinned at her, noting that she felt comfortable being here with him. Why couldn’t he feel the same though? He needed to think.
“What’s say we get out of here?” Buffy eyed him quizzically, a small smile playing across her face.
“What? You afraid I’m gonna mess up your pretty posies?” Buffy teased him, moving closer to him.
“Course not. Just feel like taking a walk.” Buffy mischievously smiled. She remembered back to all the times she had taken a “walk” with Spike when they first became intimate. Not even a block away from the cemetery and they were rushing into the nearest alley, not able to contain their passion, their emotions for one another. At first, she thought it was just sex. But she knew better now. It was always something more. Always when it was with him.
“What you smiling at, Slayer?” Spike noted the wicked smile on her face no doubt. Buffy had to conceal the real reason behind her smile.
“A walk sounds nice. Maybe it’ll calm my nerves.”
“Oh. Your nerves need calming now?” Stupid Buffy. Just tell him you’re losing yourself over him once again. Sure, that’s not going to freak him out.
“Remember? Couldn’t sleep.” She hoped that he’d buy it. He did.
“Well then. A walk it is.” Buffy saw his gentle smile before he walked back to the sliding doors. Buffy followed, her heart fluttering once again at the thought of him.
“You have protection, right?” Buffy turned to him, a look of shock on her face.
“Wh…what?” Spike turned his head to her, noting the look.
“You know. Stake? Just in case we come across some folks lumpy in the forehead region.” She sighed a breath of relief even though she wouldn’t have mind having the protection she thought he meant.
“Oh.” She stuck her hand in her pocket, slowly pulling out a wooden stake. “Never travel without it.” Spike chuckled.
“Sound like a bloody charge card advertisement.” Buffy shook her head, a grin on her face.
“Well, I don’t travel without it. And I don’t sound like a commercial.”
“Do to.”
“Do not.”
“Whatever.” Buffy stopped walking, looking at him. He turned back, seeing the change in her demeanor.
“Did you just ‘whatever’ me?” Spike rolled his eyes up, thinking about what to possibly say. After all, the question didn’t make that much sense.
“I guess I did. Why, did I say something wrong?” Buffy walked up to him, a playful smile on her face.
“The ‘whatever’ is a very dangerous tool. You don’t just casually work it into a conversation. You use it when it’s your last resort.” Spike’s brow furrowed, trying to follow her logic. “And you just threw it out there when there was so many other places you could have gone.” At this point, Spike just shook his head in frustration. Then he saw the perfect opening. He walked up to her, his face mere inches from her. He could see the smile fade as he got closer, a look of curiosity on her face. Spike looked her in the eyes, a small grin on his face.
“Whatever.” Buffy’s lips slowly curved upward, her eyes closing.
“Jerk.” Spike waited in front of her, waited for her to open her eyes again. He knew he shouldn’t be this close to her. He had tried to kill her a few days ago. And now, here they were. Taking a stroll. It didn’t make sense. But it felt so right.
She opened her eyes once again, immediately locking her gaze with his. The tension could be felt surrounding them, neither wanting to move. But Spike couldn’t do this. Not now. Not until he was sure. He stepped back, noting the frown now on Buffy’s face.
“I’m thirsty. You thirsty?” Buffy looked at him, noticing him fidgeting as he stuck his hands in his pockets. She decided to make things easier for him.
“I could go for something carbonated.” Spike saw the smile on her face and returned it in kind.
“Alright then. I know the perfect place.” Buffy tilted her head, wondering what he possibly meant. After all, it was early morning and most of the stores in Sunnydale were closed. Spike must have seen the look on her face, because he responded. “What? You don’t believe me?” Buffy nodded.
“No. I mean yes. I mean…” Buffy shook her head, wondering how she could mess up such an easy question. Spike smirked back at her, seeing the confusion evident on her face.
“I may not be the Slayer and I may not have been here in Sunnydale that long, but I’m sure you haven’t been everywhere in this town.” Buffy gave him a small smile.
“Okay then. Show me this perfect place.” Spike grinned.
“Gladly.”
Buffy couldn’t believe her eyes. Yet another quirk of Spike that she had no idea of. They were standing at the cash register, Spike holding a blueberry Squishie, she holding a strawberry. Buffy had seen this place numerous times when she went to the Bronze with her friends, but she never went in. After all, that’s what the Bronze was for. But, here she was. With Spike. In an all night convenience store.
“That’s two ten.” Spike nodded at the cashier before dropping three singles on the counter.
“Keep the change.” The cashier placed the bills into the tray while he spoke.
“Thanks mister. I can finally pay for that vacation to Tahiti.” Spike smirked at the young man before he turned back to Buffy.
“Well, you gotta start somewhere, right?” The young man chuckled as the couple made their way out of the store. Buffy looked at Spike as he basically inhaled the icy substance through the large red straw. She then eyed her cup, wondering what on Earth had made her trust him. Spike looked over, noting the hesitation. “Come on, luv. It’s not gonna bite.”
“Spike. I was having trouble sleeping. A sugar concentrate’s not really helping.” Spike smiled at her, the straw still between his lips.
“If you haven’t noticed, it’s almost a little after four in the morning. I think sleep is the least of your worries right about now.” She gave him a look, wondering what exactly he was thinking. “Go ahead. Or are you too good for a Squishie? Maybe a latte or one of those designer waters more your style?” Spike turned back to his cup, sipping slowly, while his eyes stayed on Buffy. She wanted to hit him for stereotyping her into the spoiled baby category. She eyed the plastic cup once more before her lips wrapped around the straw. One deep inhalation and the strawberry ice was on her tongue. The smile followed immediately after.
Another sip. Then another. Why hadn’t anyone ever told her about these before? She looked back over to Spike, a smirk now on his face as he continued nursing his beverage. Buffy stopped drinking, turning to face him. She couldn’t let him know how much she was enjoying this. She wiped the smile from her face even though she still felt giddy inside. “It’s okay.”
“Liar.” He never stopped sipping his drink.
“I’m not lying. It’s nothing special, that’s all.”
“Then you won’t mind if I take a sip.” Buffy instinctively moved the cup closer to her body, her arms huddled about it as though it was an infant. She playfully frowned, enjoying the moment.
“Just because it didn’t have me hearing angels sing doesn’t mean I’m not gonna finish it.” She brought the straw back to her mouth, sipping once again. As the taste lit up her tongue, the smile returned once again. Spike smirked at her when he saw the smile.
“Okay, luv. I believe you. But personally, I think blueberry’s a whole lot better.” Buffy’s eyes darted to him, then to his drink. Spike followed her eyes, then spoke. “Wanna taste?” Buffy eyed him suspiciously until he held out the cup for her.
“Fine. If you insist.” She leaned in closely, taking the straw into her lips. Buffy took one sip before she realized that Spike was looking at her intently. Then he smiled.
“Let me guess. Not earthshaking?” Buffy slowly pulled away, a smile emerging on her face.
“It was definitely better than the strawberry.” She continued looking at him as he stood there in front of her now. “Maybe next time we can try a different flavor? The banana looked pretty good.” Spike smirked as Buffy went back to her drink.
“Next time.”
They walked for a bit before they realized that they were on Rivelo Drive. They didn’t realize that they were back here because of the conversation they held. First it was the new Jet Li flick which both criticized. Not because of the plot. After all, the reason people went to movies like those were for the action sequences. And those are what they criticized. Buffy felt vindicated, knowing that there was someone else that saw all of the flaws in each fight sequence. Riley had told her once that it was just a movie. But it wasn’t just a movie. It was a way of life. And Spike understood that.
Then the conversation moved to the art of staking a vampire. Buffy said that the witty banter kept the opposition on its toes. Spike disagreed with her there. Even though he enjoyed the banter, he used it more as an anger device. Why fight a pissed off vampire when you could fight a really brassed off one. Made the fight more interesting in his opinion.
Finally, the conversation moved to the Council. Buffy gave Spike tips on how to handle the bureaucracy. She mentioned how they really didn’t have that much power as long as you believed they didn’t. After all, they were a bunch of record keepers when you really got down to it. Spike nodded, feeling unsure about Buffy now. From the way the talked, she definitely didn’t like the Watcher’s Council. But she cared deeply for Giles. A Watcher. How could someone be so complex? As he thought about this, they walked in front of Buffy’s house. Buffy turned to him, noticing the seriousness on his face.
“What are you thinking about?” Spike looked up, seeing that she had a gentle, almost playful smile on her face now. He couldn’t help but smile back. Being with her made him do that a lot.
“Nothing.” Buffy prodded.
“Nothing? Funny. You’re doing an awful lot of crinkling for nothing.” Spike didn’t follow what she was saying until she pointed to his forehead. He gently chuckled.
“Crinkling? Really?” Buffy nodded, her smile never wavering.
“Uh huh.”
“Well, I’ll try not to crinkle anymore. Okay?”
“Okay.” They stood in front of her house, Buffy still clutching the plastic cup with the racecar on the side. He didn’t understand why she kept it but said nothing. She must have had her reasons. That’s when they saw it from the corner of their eyes. Buffy turned, Spike following. “Looks like the sun’s coming up.”
“Looks like.” Buffy turned back to him, looking at him as he continued gazing at the horizon. He looked beautiful, standing there. Minute rays of sunlight bathing over him. She couldn’t help but smile. It was almost like a fairy tale. Spike had finally become a real boy. Spike turned back to her, noting her demeanor.
“Wanna come in?” Oh, no. What did she just do? Cover. Need to cover. “For some water? I don’t know about you, but my mouth feels all sticky with that Squishie aftertaste.” Buffy eyed him, hoping that he bought her flimsy reason.
“That’s okay. I should be getting home. Have to grab some shut eye before I start packing.” Buffy looked at him, a hint of amusement on her face.
“It’s Saturday. Don’t tell me you’re all partied out?” Spike smirked back at her.
“Well, I woulda had a nice sleep if a certain Slayer didn’t come knocking on my door.”
“Technically, I didn’t knock. You opened the door.” Spike shrugged.
“Whatever.” They both laughed at the joke. After the laughter subsided, Buffy spoke.
“Thanks.” He looked at her, confusion on his face.
“For what?” Her honesty jarred him.
“For keeping me company tonight. This morning.” Buffy shook her head.
“S’okay, luv. I get the picture. And it was my pleasure. Least I could do for trying to kill you earlier.” Buffy looked at him, seeing the sorrow now on his face.
“Hey. That wasn’t your fault.” Spike chuckled, a hint of anger in it.
“Oh yeah? Let me guess. Some other bloke did this to you?” Spike pointed to her left arm, the one that had been injured by the stake. Her stake. She pulled back, a hint of pain on her face. Spike had hurt her. But it wasn’t his fault.
“Doc made you do this.” Spike spoke, his voice swelling.
“My memories made me do that.” Spike looked away, not wanting to face her. Buffy’s hand gently grazed his chin, tilting it toward her, her voice now a soothing whisper.
“Hey. Look at me. Look at me.” Spike let her turn his head, his eyes still closed. “Your memories stopped you too.” Spike slowly opened his eyes, seeing only kindness in hers. “And you’re gonna get the rest of them back when you go to the Council. Everything’s going to be okay.” He wanted to believe her, but his emotions got the better of him. He slowly pulled her hand away, his voice now a whisper.
“How do you know that?”
“Call it Slayer intuition.” He couldn’t help but smile at her.
“How accurate is it? This Slayer intuition?” Buffy smiled at him, her hand grazing his.
“Oh, about seventy percent. Maybe eighty.”
“Need better than that, luv.” A small chuckle and she continued.
“Okay. For you? Ninety nine.” He grinned at her.
“Not a hundred?” Buffy moved closer to him, now holding his hand in hers, feeling him trying to pull away.
“No one’s perfect.” Her smile disappeared when she spoke next. “You still don’t trust me, do you?” Spike began to object but decided against it. She knew him so well. He hated the fact that he didn’t know her as she knew him.
“That obvious?” Buffy frowned.
“You won’t even let me touch you.” Spike sighed in frustration. “So, yeah. I’d say it’s obvious.” Spike took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves.
“Look. I know that there was something between us. I can see it every time I look into your eyes. But I don’t remember that life.” He thought that the news would upset her. But he was wrong. She kept looking at him, never taking her eyes off him. “And until I do, this isn’t a good idea.” He gently removed her hand, taking a step back. The silence would have been deafening if it weren’t for the birds chirping nearby. Spike finally looked back at Buffy, seeing that she never stopped looking at him. “I should go.”
Buffy nodded, her face emotionless. Spike nodded back, then turned to walk away. As he started to move, Buffy’s voice stopped him. “I’ll wait for you.” Spike turned back, not understanding what she meant. But the look on her face explained everything he needed to know. Buffy stood her ground, a small smile on her face even though her eyes reflected the sorrow in her. “Till the end of the world.” Spike smiled, feeling the familiarity in her words.
“Good night, Slayer.” Buffy’s smile grew as she spoke.
“Buffy.”
“What’s that?”
“My name is Buffy.” Spike nodded, a smirk on his face.
“Good night, Buffy.”
“Good night, Spike.” One more shared smile and Spike began to walk away from the house, leaving Buffy clutching her plastic cup with the racecar on the side, never knowing what that night had meant to her.