Falling Into You
By Spike SpeigelJust Another Day
He stirred from his slumber, the touch on his skin almost burning him. He slowly opened his eyes to see her on top of him, a playful smile on her face. He returned the smile, his hand moving to touch her face. However, before he could, her hand captured his in an embrace, slowly pushing it over his head. He gently chuckled. “So, what’s this then? Wanna play rough?” She moved her face closer to his, her chest on top of his now. The silk of her slip ignited his nerves as she slid up his body.
“If you want to. As long as we get to play.” Her lips fell on the hollow of his neck, gently kissing the sensitive skin there, her tongue softly flicking against it. As he sighed at her touch, he moved his free hand to her side, wanting to touch her. As though she read his mind, her free hand gently gripped it, pushing it to join his other hand. Her lips worked their way up to his chin, languishing there.
“This isn’t fair, luv. Why won’t you let me touch you?” Before he got the answer, he felt her slide over him, him into her. He turned his head to the side, savoring the feeling of her all about him as he let out a small groan. Her lips now hovered over his ear, whispering.
“Is that better?” He tried to answer coherently, the sensation of her moving over him driving him to the precipice.
“Yeah. Better.” He slowly closed his eyes, wanting to lose himself in her. But she wouldn’t let him. Not yet.
“Look at me.” He complied, willing to do anything for her. He was hers. Their eyes locked, a small moan escaping her lips as she began to envelop more of him. He lifted his mouth to hers, silencing her. Her kiss forced his head back onto the pillow, her hands relaxing their grip. Losing themselves in the kiss, her hands were now in his hair, his moving to her back. Desperately wanting to be closer, he pulled her closer to him, feeling every curve of her body against his. She suddenly broke the kiss, leaving him missing her that much more. Before he could voice his protest, she slowly pulled her top over her head, revealing her world to him. She gently smiled at him, he returning it in kind.
“Cor, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.” She grinned at him, her hands now pressed against his chest. Missing the feel of her, he slowly lifted himself up to her, his arms sliding under hers, his hands in her hair, gently grazing her scalp. His lips moved to the crook of her neck, gently suckling on her warm, soft skin. She moaned, her voice now a trembling plea. “Right there.”
He felt her begin to move over him once again, his lips moving up her neck, to her earlobe. He gently nibbled as she began to moan louder, he now moving with her. Her arms moved from her side, pulling his head up to hers, their lips once again in union. Her tongue forced its way into his mouth, wanting to feel him. They moaned as they moved, as one. She reluctantly pulled away, taking a much-needed breath. He hungrily moved back to her, but her hand got in the way, her fingers on his lips. He looked confused, wondering what she was up to.
“What’s wrong, luv?” Her response startled him momentarily.
“Do you love me?” He looked at her, contemplating the emotion on her face, that of worry. He gently smiled against her fingers.
“More than you’ll ever know.” Her face glowed as she heard his declaration. While they were being honest, he had to know. “Do you love me?” Her hands slowly fell to her sides, the smile now replaced by a frown. After a moment of silence, she answered.
“I can’t.” He stared at her, a frown on his face as the words sank in.
“Why not?” Her left hand moved to his face, gently cupping the right side. She looked at him with…what? He couldn’t place the emotion. Was it sympathy? Before he could answer the question, she answered his.
“Because you’re beneath me.” As he contemplated her words, his emotions in utter turmoil, her right hand flew from her side toward his chest. He winced as her hand remained upon his chest. He slowly looked down, seeing only her hand curled up in a ball. However, as she slowly uncurled her fingers, the object of his immediate pain came into view. She held her right hand up to him, blood covering her palm. His hands slowly fell off her body as the realization hit him. As the stake protruded from his chest. He looked at her questioningly, a look of shock and confusion now gracing his face. She smiled as though she was smiling to a complete stranger she had met during a chance encounter as she spoke. “I could never love a monster.”
Spike’s eyes flew open, the first thing to grace his vision the ceiling. He lay motionless in the bed before his mind caught up with the surroundings. He was in the bedroom. Spike slowly turned to his side to get a better view of the clock on the nightstand. It was almost seven. Was that right? The last thing he remembered was going to bed around two.
Spike slowly lifted himself out of the bed, his feet hitting the carpet. He ran his hands through his hair, letting out an audible sigh. As he pushed himself to his feet, Spike could see the first morning rays filtering through the blinds of the window. It was odd. No longer fearing the sun. Before it had been the harbinger of death. Now, it was an indication of life.
He moved into the bathroom, his hand finding the light switch. As the overhead fan whirred noisily, Spike moved his hand across his face. Stubble. Another new fact. While he had been shaving for a while now, the fact that he hadn’t in over a century now perplexed him. Before meeting Buffy, he led a normal life. He worked at a normal job. He was a normal accountant. He tended to his normal flowers. He watched his normal programs on the telly. But the more than normal woman turned his life about on its heels. Buffy.
His eyes looked upon his reflection in the mirror, moving to his hair. His blondish brown hair, tousled about from his dream no doubt. Spike ran a hand through his hair, a contemplative look in the mirror. How in the world did he plaster it back on his scalp as though it was a bloody helmet? And peroxide blonde? What on earth was he thinking? Maybe he should bleach it, just to see what it felt like. Before he could ponder the thought, the alarm from the bedroom shrieked throughout the apartment. Spike grumbled as he walked back into the bedroom. “Already up, you unreliable piece of…”
Spike’s finger found its way onto the off button on top of the clock radio, the red digits flashing seven at him now. He slowly spun around, his eyes falling onto the bags near the bedroom door. Their flight was at eight. “Better get a move on, Spike.” He made his way back into the bathroom, closing the door behind him as he started the shower.
“I wish I could go with you.” Giles turned his head, his eyes glancing over his shoulder at Buffy as he finished placing the last shirt into his suitcase. Giles lowered the top for the briefcase, pulling the zipper around the perimeter. Once he placed the lock through the holes of the zipper, confident that it was secure, he turned back to Buffy. She leaned against the doorframe, a look of distress on her face. Giles moved closer to her as he spoke.
“I know you want to, but you have things here that need your attention.” He could see the worry in her eyes now. She didn’t want him to leave. Both of them. “There’s work. And Dawn. And protecting the populace.” Buffy eyed him, a hint of amusement on her face.
“Populace? Make it sound like I’m a one man army.” Giles answered, a hint of laughter in his voice.
“Well, I guess you are at that.” Giles adjusted the frame of his glasses as he spoke. “Will we be meeting Xander and Anya at the airport?” Buffy nodded.
“Yep. They said they had a meeting with the florist after. So they’ll go do that after we see you off.” Giles gently smiled.
“Well, guess I’ll be back soon, then. Wouldn’t want to miss out on the big event.” He had first met Alexander Harris while he was a sophomore in high school. And now he was literally days away from becoming a husband. And a father after that. And a grandfather. Giles shook his head. Amazing what could happen, given the right amount of time. Buffy’s voice jarred him from his thoughts.
“So, is Spike going to meet us here…” He could tell from the tone of her voice that things were still unresolved between her and Spike.
“Um, no. He’s going to meet us there as well.” Giles continued to speak as Dawn scurried past the door, down the stairs. “Seems logical, seeing as how he’s closer to the airport than we are.” Buffy nodded again. Her memories began to stir, remembering their last encounter. He didn’t trust her. So how could he possibly ever love her? Without trust, there couldn’t be love. She softly chuckled at her thought. The roles were reversed now. She was hopelessly in love with him while he wouldn’t allow himself to love her. Buffy turned her gaze back to Giles, who was now holding the handle of the suitcase in his hand. Buffy gently smiled at him.
“Got everything?” Giles nodded. “Well, let’s go grab some breakfast before we leave. Tara should be done with the pancakes by now.”
“Okay. I’ll just put this by the front door with the other bags and I’ll be right there.” Buffy nodded as she walked away from the bedroom door. Giles frowned as he eyed the room for the last time. As much as he enjoyed his time back in Sunnydale, barring acts of torture, he was going to miss being here for her. For Buffy. But she had her own life now. And he had his. Giles slowly moved out of the room, closing the door behind him.
She stood next to Dawn, while the others sat in the seats placed in rows as though a class was about to be held in the terminal. She anxiously looked around, wondering if he was going to show. Of course he was going to show. It was his flight, after all. No flight, no London. No London, no Council. And no Council, no answers. And as much as it pained her to admit, she wanted him to go. The sooner he got what he needed, the sooner she’d see him again. Dawn noted the odd behavior on Buffy’s part by the way her brow was thoroughly furrowed. Buffy deep in thought was a troubled Buffy. “What’s wrong?” Buffy looked at her sister, a small smile on Dawn’s face.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Then why are you thinking so hard?” Buffy gave her a puzzled look until she realized that her composure was one of tense rigidity. Buffy returned Dawn’s smile, trying to downplay the seriousness of her thoughts.
“I always look like this when I think.” Dawn softly laughed.
“Then you must not think a lot then.” Buffy gently tapped Dawn’s nose playfully, Dawn wincing in mock pain. “You like picking on people smaller than you, don’t you?”
“No, just annoying sisters.” That’s when they heard the voice. His voice.
“Well, that’s not very familial, now is it?” Buffy turned her gaze from Dawn, looking upon Spike, now standing in front of her, a bag slung about his shoulder, another in his right hand. He moved toward Dawn, gently stroking her long, brown hair. “Want me to rough her up for you, niblet?” The smile on Dawn’s face grew as she heard the word. He had called her niblet. His pet name for her. She felt giddy upon realizing that this was indeed Spike. She motioned for him to come nearer. “Hmm, what’s this?” As he moved closer to her, Dawn flung her arms around his neck, almost pulling him to the ground. Spike gently chuckled as he lifted her from the ground, Dawn hanging from his neck, giggling.
“It’s really you, isn’t it?” Spike smiled over her shoulder, looking at the group that had now gathered around them. He couldn’t help but notice Buffy looking at him, a gentle smile on her face.
“It’s me, Dawn. Most of me, anyway.” Her response surprised him.
“Then stay. Don’t go.” Spike’s smile subsided as he lowered her to the ground. As he moved away from her, their gaze locked.
“I have to go, Dawn.”
“But why?” Of course they didn’t tell her what had happened. As far as she was concerned, the person standing in front of her was the Spike she always knew. Buffy moved to Dawn’s side, her hand on her little sister’s shoulder.
“Dawnie.” She shrugged Buffy’s hand from her shoulder while she continued looking at Spike.
“No. I don’t understand.” Spike could see that her eyes were beginning to well with tears. “I just got you back. Why do I have to lose you again?” Spike looked at Dawn, his emotions about to get the better of him. He was about to say sod the whole thing. But then he noticed Buffy gently wrapping her arm around Dawn’s shoulder, trying to console her. Buffy. He couldn’t stay. He needed to make sure. He needed his memories back. It was the only way he could ever fathom coming back here. Spike knelt in front of Dawn as he moved his hand into his pocket.
“I can’t tell you all the reasons why I have to go.” He could see Buffy’s demeanor stiffen as she realized what he was alluding to. To their incident in the cemetery. To their moment of lost faith. To their moment of uncertainty. Spike slowly pulled his hand out of the pocket, clutching an object in his palm. “But I remember a promise I made. And I’m gonna keep it right now.” Dawn looked at him quizzically as the others remained silent, watching the scene unfold. “Open your hand, pigeon.” He gently smiled at her, his eyes soft and full of tenderness. She slowly extended her hand out, tears evident in her eyes. Spike held his hand out over hers, gently releasing the object to fall into hers. He slowly moved his palm from over hers, revealing the object for all to see. He felt happy as the smile emerged on Dawn’s face. Buffy gently smiled as the rest of the group looked on in puzzlement. Xander spoke.
“It’s just a mirror.” Spike looked up at him, wondering how daft a person could be. He could see from Dawn’s eyes that she was probably thinking the same thing. Xander looked embarrassed now as he fumbled for closure. “Right?” Dawn turned back to Spike, wiping the tears from her eyes. She smiled as she spoke.
“How’d you get it? I gave it to Buffy to keep.” Spike grinned, deciding on keeping the truth from her.
“She let me hold it for a bit. Thought it might stir up some memories.” He gently chuckled. It definitely did that. That and much more. “Seemed to work, wouldn’t you say?” Dawn giggled as she held the pocket mirror once again. Spike’s hand was now on hers, slowly tilting it ever so slightly. Dawn’s gaze fell on Spike until he spoke once again, his eyes motioning her. “Look.” Her eyes moved from Spike to the mirror, the look of confusion transforming to one of happiness as she realized what she was seeing. Her eyes flew from the mirror, joy mingling with excitement. Spike smiled softly, his voice a whisper. “You were right.”
Dawn moved to Spike once again, her arms wrapping around his neck, her head against the crook of his neck. The tears came this time as she spoke. “I knew it. I knew it.” Spike gently wrapped his arms around her waist, noting that Buffy was smiling at him while the realization began to sink in for the others. Anya broke the silence.
“Wow. A vampire with a reflection.” Buffy turned back to Anya, a look of annoyance on her face. Unfortunately, Anya didn’t pick up on it as she continued. “How is this possible?” Tara noted Buffy’s look and decided to intervene.
“Probably the same way a vampire can stand in direct sunlight without getting all flamey.” Spike smirked at Tara’s comment as he continued to hold Dawn. After a moment, Dawn slowly moved away from Spike, her hands still about his neck.
“This is why you’re going, right?” Spike nodded, somewhat relieved that Dawn understood why he had to leave. “You think you’ll find out what happened to you in London, right?”
“That’s right, bit.” Spike moved his hands over Dawn’s, slowly pulling them in between their bodies. He closed his hand over hers, feeling the mirror in her grip. “So I want you to keep this safe. I’m coming back for it.” Dawn meekly smiled.
“Okay. This time I won’t let Buffy touch it.” Spike gently chuckled as he saw Buffy awkwardly smile. He remembered that night in the cemetery when it had fallen out of the coat pocket. His coat pocket. The same coat she had been wearing when she was in the cemetery. His coat. First his coat. Then his mirror. That wasn’t the act of an enemy. But then again, she could have been keeping them as trophies. Goddamn memories. Why couldn’t he remember? Spike shook the memory away, looking back at Dawn.
“It’s okay, Dawn. She can see it.” He gently squeezed her hand before letting go. “Just make sure you keep it safe though. Okay?”
“Okay.” Spike gave her a quick wink as he walked past her toward the rest of the group, noting their awkward postures. He couldn’t blame them. From what he could remember, none of them gave a damn about him before. Why should they now? He knew the answer even before he asked the question. Buffy. It was always Buffy. Spike looked over the group before moving toward Xander. Spike eyed him curiously, noting that he was still wincing.
“Ribs still bothering you?” Xander nodded, his arms staying close to his body so as to not move about too much.
“Yeah. But this neat body vest keeps them from moving too much. The doc said that the damage wasn’t that excessive so I don’t need to be wrapped up in plaster.” Xander smiled as he spoke again. “Just like salami.” Spike eyed him.
“Sorry, mate. Don’t quite get the reference.” Giles filled in the blank.
“The vest feels like almost like a salami coating.” Xander nodded at Giles while Giles continued. “Although, I would describe it more like a vise.”
“Or a very manly corset.” Buffy and Dawn chuckled at Tara’s insight as Giles frowned at Tara. Xander Spike smirked as he moved toward Giles.
“So, you gonna be okay on the plane? What with the pressure change and all?” Giles nodded, a wan smile on his face. Who was this standing in front of him? It looked like Spike. But it didn’t sound like Spike. He was actually concerned.
“I’ll be fine. The bones have begun mending and the body vest should be able to hold me together until we get to London.” Spike nodded at Giles while shooting him a smirk. Had to hand it to the codger. He had a set all right.
“Right. So, is the plane at the terminal yet?” As though the announcer heard him, the message came through.
“Flight twenty-eight for London is now boarding. Repeat. Flight twenty-eight for London is now boarding.” Giles looked at Spike, a hint of laughter in his voice.
“Does that answer your question?” Spike nodded.
“Does at that.” Spike turned around slowly, seeing the looks on all of the people gathered behind him. Dawn was sulking now, but the chance of tears was nonexistent now. That moment had passed when he all but promised her that he was coming back. However, he wasn’t entirely sure if he was or not, so, technically, it wasn’t a lie. “C’mere, Dawn.” She slowly walked over to him, into his outstretched arms. Spike folded his arms once again around the small figure, his lips planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. He looked up to the group, speaking to Xander next. “You’ll keep your word, right?” Xander eyed him quizzically until Spike subtly moved his eyes toward Buffy. Xander nodded as he spoke.
“I don’t like it. But, yeah. I’ll keep my word.” Anya eyed both men suspiciously; unsure of what has just transpired. But she didn’t speak. Instead, she wound her arm under Xander’s as she looked on at Spike.
“Have a safe trip. And bring back lots of souvenirs.” Spike smirked at Anya, a chuckle escaping his lips.
“We’ll see.” His eyes fell on Tara, who he saw was still unsure of how to act around him. It was evident though. She didn’t hate him. Based on the look on her face, Spike was sure that the woman standing with her arms tentatively wrapped about her chest never actually hated him. Not like the others. “Take care of the Summers for me, okay?” Tara meekly smiled.
“I can do that.”
“Thanks, luv. And take care of yourself while you’re at it.” Her smile widened as he winked at her. He knew that she genuinely liked him because there’s no way she’d ever find him attractive. Well, not in a sexual manner anyway. Spike eyes finally fell on her, a look of sadness in her eyes. Buffy. “Niblet, can you give us a moment?” Dawn looked up, a small smile on her face as she backed away slowly, not wanting to let him go. Dawn joined the rest of the group, now saying their goodbyes to Giles. Before they knew it, Buffy and Spike were alone once again. And the discomfort was there once again as well. Neither knew where to start so Buffy bit the bullet.
“So, did you pack everything?” Spike nodded at her, his hand now on the bag slung over his shoulder.
“Think so. Even brought a camera.” Buffy smiled as he continued speaking. He actually listened to her recommendation. Before Buffy could speak again, Spike interrupted the silence. “Can I ask you a favor, pet?” She answered truthfully.
“Anything.” Spike reached into his pants pocket, pulling out a set of keys. He fiddled with the ring until the key he was looking for fell into view. He held it between his thumb and forefinger, up to Buffy.
“My place’s paid up for the year. So, I was wondering if you’d stop by once in a while to water my flowers.” He knew that would be asking too much of her. She had her own life. The last thing she needed was to water some bloody plants. “I mean, if you have the time. Because, if you don’t, I can always ask…”
“I’ll do it.” He noted her warm smile as she looked at him. Spike returned the smile, albeit awkwardly.
“Um. Right, then.” Buffy held her hand out, allowing Spike to drop them into her grasp like he did earlier with the mirror. However, he didn’t drop them this time. Instead, he gently placed them in her hand, their palms gently caressing, touching as he did so. Buffy smiled, noting the look on his face. He looked so cute, acting like a lovelorn teenager around her. But that couldn’t be true. He didn’t even trust her. So, why did he ask her to water his flowers? She needed to tell him. Before he left. Giles told her to tell him. Before it was too late.
“Final boarding for flight twenty-eight to London. Repeat. Final boarding for flight twenty-eight to London.” They locked their gaze on one another, realizing that there was so much that remained unsaid between the two of them and not enough time to say it in. Spike eyed her curiously before looking back to the gate, noting the passengers moving through the gate.
“Hmm, guess that’s last call.”
“Yeah.” Buffy wanted to grab him. To tell him to stay. To never leave her again. But he needed to go. He had to go. If there was any chance of a future for the both of them. A moment of silence between the two before Giles’ voice floated over their shoulder.
“Spike, are we ready to depart?” He looked back over his shoulder, giving him a quick nod. Then his eyes fell back on Buffy’s, noting the swell of emotions now evident there. He wondered if she was seeing the same in his as he spoke.
“So, guess this is it.” Buffy tried desperately for the words. She needed to tell him before it was too late. He had to know how she felt. He needed the truth. “Take care of yourself, luv.”
“You too, Spike.” There wasn’t not enough time to tell him. He didn’t deserve it to be thrown at him like an afterthought. She’d wait for him. She’d do this right. “Remember. Lots of pictures.” Spike gently laughed as he spoke.
“Will do, luv.” One more look at the woman that had completely changed his life before he walked over to Giles, helping him with his extra bag as they walked off to the terminal. She’d tell him when he returned to Sunnydale. After all, how long could he possibly stay in London?
To say London was like putting on an old pair of shoes would definitely be an understatement. Even though it had only been a few months since he left England for Sunnydale, Spike found himself marveling at the surroundings. How could the weather be so damn dreary? Kind of made Sunnydale seem like a vacation resort. Well, the kind that was situated on the Hellmouth. But, that was just a minor quibble. Really.
The memories began to flood back into his conscious as soon as he stepped foot off the plane. Doc had made all of the preparations, gotten the right paperwork in order for Spike’s travels. After all, it wasn’t like a vampire has a passport. Spike looked down at the small blue book, marveling at how, with relative ease, Doc had given him a life. He read the name under the photograph. “Rocco Gaiman.” If that was a pun, Spike wasn’t laughing. He’d have to do something about getting his name changed eventually. He’d have to ask Giles about that bit of information once he got back from the store.
It had been nearly two weeks since they’d been in London, and Spike had no idea of what it was exactly Giles did for a living. Apparently, he still worked for the Council. But, as for what exactly he did, that was the enigma. Probably another glorified bookkeeper. Honestly, Spike couldn’t see Giles doing anything else, given the number of times he’d been against and with him during their struggles. Funny, that. Spike felt like a coin, switching from side to side, whenever he thought about his past. But, the past was still blurry.
And it had been two weeks without any progress from the Council. You’d think they’d be anxious to get their pet project back. But, what if Doc had been lying to him. What if he was believing the fictions of a madman? But the passport in his hand told him the truth. It had been stamped when he left London and stamped again when he entered Los Angeles. Spike tossed the passport onto the bed, moving to his feet.
Two weeks. God. What was taking so damn long? “Ah, sod it all.” Spike moved to his suitcase, searching the side pocket. “Know I put the bloody things in here.” A few desperate swipes of his hand before he came into contact with the small box. “Ahh, there you are.” Spike pulled the carton out of the pocket, tearing the shrink-wrap away. He tapped the box against his hand before he opened it. His thumb and forefinger gently grasped the cigarette, pulling it slowly out of the package before they placed it between his lips.
That’s when the frown came. Of course he didn’t pack a lighter. Why would he, when a dangling cigarette is just so exquisite? Spike moved from the bedroom into the kitchen. He turned on the range on the stove, holding the cigarette over the now glowing coil. “Light, damn you.” Two goddamn weeks stuck in the flat. Giles had suggested that it would be best if Spike stayed indoors. After all, there was no telling what had transpired during his time in London. No reason to risk exposure. But, to tell the truth, Spike could go for a spot of violence right about now. Because the damn cigarette wasn’t catching. At that moment, Spike heard the lock tumble open, Giles shuffling inside of the apartment; paper crinkling as he did so.
“Spike?”
“In the kitchen.” Giles moved into the kitchen, dropping his keys back into his pants pocket, a brown paper bag in his other arm. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight that awaited him.
“I thought I told you no smoking in the flat?” Spike never looked at him as he huffed frustration.
“Well, technically, I’m not.” Spike’s voice swelled as he spoke again. “Because this damn thing’s mocking me!” Giles’ chuckle caught his attention. “That’s right. Laugh at the wanker that could twist your head clean off.” Giles laughed harder now as he placed the bag on the counter, moving to a drawer next to the dishwasher. He grabbed the object, tossing it onto the stove.
“Try those.” One more look before he began unpacking the items from the bag. “And you’re welcome.” Spike turned off the range, his hand encircling the matchbook. He flipped the top away, tearing off a match and striking it against the rough strip. Spike’s eyes lit up like a child as the flame expanded from the tip of the match. He held the match up to his mouth, the cigarette now glowing. He waved the match into the air; extinguishing the flame, smoke curling from the tip. Then he took a long drag.
“Mmm, that’s the stuff.” Spike tossed the match into the bin as he looked over to Giles, his demeanor now relaxed. “So, what’d you grab for dinner tonight, mate?” Spike looked down at the counter, seeing two glasses on the counter. “What’s this, then?” Giles pulled the bottle out of the bag, a slight grin on his face. Spike looked at him quizzically before reading the label. “Karpatske?” Giles knew that his selection hadn’t been wasted based on the look of awe on Spike’s face. “Stuff’s a bloody classic. What’s the occasion, Rupert?” Giles opened the bottle of brandy, pouring a liberal amount into each glass. He held up a glass, indicating to Spike to grab the other.
“You’re in.” Spike held the butt of the cigarette between his index and middle finger, his hand cupping the glass while the weight of the words began to sink in.
“I’m in?” Giles chuckled.
“That’s right. Took some haranguing, but the Council’s finally ready to see you.” Spike smirked at Giles, moving his glass toward the Watcher’s. As the glasses clinked, they shared a laugh. “’Bout bloody time.”
“Yes. But it seems that they’re very interested in meeting you now. Before, they could have cared less.”
“Why’s that?” Giles sighed as he brought the glass to his lips.
“I honestly have no idea for the change in their behavior.” Spike chuckled before he took a long sip.
“You know, for being in the know, you don’t really know much, do you?” Spike couldn’t help but notice how much he sounded like Buffy in that instance. She may be irritating as hell, but she had her moments. Giles took another sip before placing the glass onto the counter.
“Well, that may be true, but the fact is, tomorrow, you have an audience with Quentin Travers.” The name sounded so familiar.
“He the bloke that gave Buffy trouble a few years ago?” Then a name flashed in his mind. “Glory? Something about Glory.” Then he was in a hotel room, his hands chained, dangling from the roof. He was bloodied, bruised. And that bitch kept smiling as she kept asking him about the Key. Giles could see the look in his eyes. Something had clicked. He decided to help him along.
“That’s right. He wanted to gain control of Buffy after she quit the Council.” Spike thought his hearing suddenly went wonky.
“Come again, mate? Buffy left the Council? The all powerful Council?” Giles smiled while Spike snuffed the cigarette against the counter, tossing the remnants into the trash.
“That’s right. But that’s not the point.” Spike interrupted him.
“No, that’s a pretty big point.” It all made sense now. Why Buffy didn’t care for the Council. Because she had walked away from them. Must have been a hell of a reason. Spike turned his attention back to Giles. “All this time, I thought she was working for them.”
“She is.”
“But you just said…” Giles waved at him.
“You care to let me finish my narrative?” Spike shrugged his shoulder as he took another sip. “Very well. Things went very sour between her and the Council when she was tested during her eighteenth birthday.”
“Tested?” Giles sighed as he furrowed his brow. Apparently, whatever he had to say to Spike troubled him greatly. But, he was grateful that Giles was filling in the blanks for him where Buffy was concerned.
“Every Slayer is tested during their eighteenth birthday. They have their powers taken away and then given a test. If they pass, they continue working for the Council.” The silence was deafening now. Spike had to ask.
“And if they fail?”
“They die.” Giles’ hand found the glass once again as he took a rather considerable swig. This was definitely not a pleasant memory for the Watcher. Spike considered this for a while before he spoke.
“And you had some hand in this, innit right?” Giles nodded, his eyes now focused on his drink. Spike knew there was probably more to the story, so he spoke. “So, what happened next? Apparently, Buffy passed because she’s at home right now, spending some quality time with the niblet.”
“Well, I was dismissed as her Watcher after that incident. The Council thought I cared for her well being too much to be an effective Watcher.”
“Rot. You treat her like your own flesh and blood. That’d make you better for the job, not worse.” Giles offered him a slight smile as he continued.
“Anyway, the real trouble came when Angel was poisoned by Faith.” Giles could see Spike trying to piece the names together by the look in his eyes, so he clarified. “Faith was the Slayer sent up after Buffy died.”
“You mean, after she jumped?” Spike couldn’t believe that those words had come out of his mouth. But there they were. And in his mind, he could see her falling through the gate, his eyes filling with tears, as she fell to her death. Spike jarred himself back to reality, beginning to see a discrepancy with his thoughts. “But, I don’t remember ever seeing Faith. So, how’s that possible?”
“Because she died before that.” Spike almost choked on his brandy as he digested this bit of information.
“Wait. She’s died twice?!?” Giles nodded.
“The Master killed her.” Spike shook his head, unable to place the images together fast enough as they began flying through his mind. Focus on why she quit the Council. Sod everything else. After a moment, Spike composed himself.
“Too much information, mate. One death at a time, if you don’t mind.” Giles thought Spike was joking, but the look on his face was one of seriousness. Of course he was being sincere. He didn’t have full access to his memories, and bombarding him with this much information must be wreaking havoc with his thoughts. Giles offered him a small smile as he polished off his glass of brandy, refilling it almost immediately.
“Right. Well, after Faith poisoned Angel, Buffy asked the Council for help in curing him. But they wouldn’t.”
“Why not?” Giles looked at Spike for a moment, realizing the severity of his memory lapse at that moment. He had no idea what Angel was. He could see from Spike’s demeanor that he knew who Angel was. That much was evident based on the tone of his voice. He remembered Angel. Giles contemplated whether he should continue. But he knew the answer before he began thinking about the situation. Buffy had told him about what had happened when they withheld the truth from Spike initially. It had almost cost Buffy her life. Giles exhaled as he spoke.
“Because he was a vampire.” Giles paused for a moment to see how Spike would react to the news. Apparently, Spike was thinking based by the furrow in his brow.
“Because he was a vampire in love with a Slayer.”
“I don’t think that would have been a factor for the Council, but since Wesley was the one informing them about Angel, one can never be too sure.” Spike eyed him, puzzlement on his face.
“Wesley?” Spike placed his now empty glass on the counter, Giles pouring him another helping.
“Doesn’t matter.” Giles topped the bottle once again while Spike nodded his approval.
“Thanks, mate.” He brought the glass to his lips, savoring the taste of the brandy swirling around in his mouth before he swallowed. “So, that’s when Buffy stepped away from the Council?”
“That about the gist of it.” Spike nodded, thinking back to what Buffy had told him earlier. About the Council.
“So, Buffy would come back to those wankers, why?” Giles smirked before he spoke.
“She didn’t run back to them. It was the other way around, actually.” Spike joined him as Giles began chuckling.
“Is that right?”
“The Council needed her more than she needed them.” Giles held the glass in his hand, gently spinning it on the counter as he spoke. “After all, what good is a group of Watchers without anyone to watch?”
“But what about Faith?” Giles responded quickly.
“She’s in jail.” Spike knew there was probably a long, convoluted story behind that response, so he left it alone. Maybe he’d ask later. But, for now, this little chat was about the Council. And Buffy.
“So, the Watchers needed purpose for their existence, and they came groveling? Doesn’t sound like the Council I’ve read about.” Giles softly chuckled as Spike took another sip, as though it was a mechanical response at this point. He wasn’t drinking for enjoyment right now. He was drinking because it was there. Because there was something to do between bouts of silence.
“Not exactly. They had a whole charade in place. Ultimately, they wanted Buffy to believe that she was nothing without them.” Spike finished Giles’ thought.
“But, Buffy, not being one to be bossed around, turned the tables on those wankers.” Giles nodded as Spike looked at him with an air of confusion. Why was he smiling? He was a Watcher, after all. “So, how come you don’t get all up in arms whenever Buffy gives it good to the Council?” Spike placed the glass on the counter, his hands now wrapped across his chest. “You’re a Watcher, right?”
“Yes. I am a Watcher. But I was also Buffy’s Watcher.” Giles took another sip, indicating that he was done answering Spike’s query.
“And?”
“And what?” Spike sighed in frustration, his hands running through his hair.
“So, what’s the story there? You and Buffy?” Giles gave Spike a sincere smile before he spoke once again.
“I’d do anything for her. Even if it meant turning my back on the Council, I’d do it without a second thought.” Giles’ voice dropped to a whisper as he continued. “She’s the daughter I’ll never have.” Spike gently clapped the Watcher’s shoulder, indicating that he understood what Giles was trying to say. Spike had enough of this trip down memory lane. It was time to focus on tomorrow.
“So, any pointers on how to carry on once I meet this Quentin bloke?” Giles smiled.
“Don’t let him get an inch on you. Once he does, Quentin won’t let up.” Spike nodded, thinking back to Buffy’s information on how to deal with the Council that morning in front of her house. The last morning he’d shared with her.
“Right. Beat their bloody brains in if they give me too much lip.” Both men shared a small laugh at the mental image both were forming. Giles looked at the bottle, seeing that they had gone through a little over half of it in a single sitting. It didn’t matter though. This was a night to celebrate. Giles shook his head, wondering how events had transpired for Spike to be standing in his flat in Bath, sharing a drink. Life was strange indeed. Giles polished off the rest of brandy in his glass before he spoke.
“Before that, though. What’s say you and me go out and celebrate? After all, this is a major step in getting the answers Doc eluded to.” Spike thought about the offer for a brief moment before he spoke.
“What the hell. I’m already half pissed. Why not go all the way?” Giles smirked at Spike as both men made their way into the living room, grabbing their coats as Giles opened the door.
“So, how do you feel about Indian?” Spike chuckled as he spoke.
“I’ll let you know in a few hours when I’m tossing in the bathroom.” Another shared laugh as they stepped out into the hallway, Spike glad that things were finally looking up.
Five o’ clock finally rolled around. Not soon enough for Buffy, though. How could such a mundane task as managing a teller window be so exhausting? The only time she felt invigorated anymore was when she went on patrol. And even then, there was something missing. Spike. She had gotten so accustomed to him being around that she missed him even more when he left for England. Buffy sighed as she cleared away the extraneous receipts and locked up the teller drawer.
“Have a nice night, Buffy.” She smiled at Peggy as she gathered her bag. She was the only person that had accepted her into the social circle when she started working at the bank. They’d even had lunch together a few times when their breaks coincided. To tell the truth, Peggy was probably the first friend she’d made since high school. After all, the only friends she’d known since she came to Sunnydale were the gang. There were boyfriends along the way, but they all left. Just like Spike. Buffy dispelled the thought from her mind, not wanting to dwell on the negative.
“Night, Peg. See ya tomorrow.” Peggy rewarded Buffy with a courteous smile before Buffy made her way out of the bank. Spike. She had wanted to go with Giles and Spike. But that was an impossibility. She had responsibilities. Not necessarily to slaying. The gang would have covered for her until she came back. But they couldn’t pay the bills for her. They couldn’t work at the bank for her. They couldn’t be a mother to Dawn. Only Buffy could accomplish these tasks. And, to think, she was in high school just a few years ago. How quickly things changed.
Then there was the fact that she could have threatened the Council to tell Spike everything that he needed to know. After their last encounter, Buffy had made it very clear on who was actually in charge. No Slayer, no Watchers. No Watchers, no job. But she couldn’t. Well, she could, but she knew that Spike would never have accepted the offer. Not with the lack of trust now hovering between the both of them. But, it was slowly rebuilding. After all, he had asked her to tend to his flowers until he got back. And, that she did. In fact, she cherished those moments, standing on the balcony, surrounded by his flowers. She loved the scent that danced across the air as she stood in the darkness, feeling him next to her.
Buffy stopped off at the Doublemeat Palace, purchasing enough to feed a family of three. And, they were that. With Tara living with them now, it felt like a small family. It was also a great help to Buffy as well. While Buffy did the work scene, Tara tended to the house when she got back from her classes. She was also there for Dawn when she got home from school. That was such a great relief that Buffy couldn’t even begin to thank Tara for doing the things she was doing for both Buffy and Dawn. In all reality, Tara didn’t owe them anything. But, there she was, pitching in. Being there for them. Just like she was when Buffy first told her about her relationship with Spike. It was the most frustrating, depressing, confusing day of her life, but Tara was there for comfort. And Buffy would never be able to repay her, no matter what. What Tara had offered them was more than valuable. It was essential.
Buffy said her goodbyes to her former coworkers before stepping back outside. She carefully gripped the paper bag as she made her way down the sidewalk. The walk home was uneventful. Basically because the sun was still out and the vamps and other nasties tended to come out when it was dark. No matter, she’d tend to them eventually. Right now, she wanted to get home and take her shoes off. Man, but her feet were killing her. Guess standing for eight plus hours behind a teller window will do that. Funny. Falling from a two-story building with a monk didn’t hurt as much as standing behind a counter. Maybe her Slayer powers only pertained to battling evil. Buffy gently laughed at the thought as she found her way on Rivelo Drive.
While she didn’t mind the walk, she’d have to look into getting a driver’s license soon. There were times when having access to a car would prove invaluable. Like heading over to the convenience store at three in the morning for a Squishie. Buffy couldn’t help it. She was addicted to those sugary ice treats now. Leave it to Spike to find something else for her to become attached to. First him. Now his love of Squishies. Damn him. Okay, so she didn’t really mean that. But she missed him. Maybe that’s why she was still going to the convenience store. It reminded her of their night together. Everything had been perfect. Except for the part where he told her that he didn’t trust her. Other than that, it was one of her better nights. Buffy sighed as she now stood in front of the door, sliding the key into the lock. Once she stepped inside the house, she dropped the keys onto the small table next to the coat rack before she spoke.
“Hey guys. I’m home. And I’ve got dinner.” Buffy looked down at the now grease stained bag in her hand. “Well, it’s edible anyway.” Tara’s voice emanated from the living room.
“We’re in here, Buffy.” Odd. The television wasn’t on and Dawn and Tara were suspiciously silent. Actually, the house had been very quiet when she first walked in. As she moved to the living room, she began to understand the reason for the silence.
“Ms. Kroger?”
“Hello, Ms. Summers.” Oh, God. Did she have a meeting today with Social Services? Buffy couldn’t remember. Sure, things had been hectic lately, with Spike and Doc, but Buffy was fairly sure that she didn’t have a meeting today. She’d been doing better with Dawn. Ever since they lost Spike. Ever since they realized that all they had were each other. Buffy saw Tara sitting next to Dawn on the couch while Ms. Kroger sat in the armchair, notepad in hand. This couldn’t be happening. Not now.
“Um, Ms. Kroger.” Buffy felt awkward asking the question but she had to know. Mainly because she was certain now that there wasn’t an appointment for today. “Were we supposed to meet today? Because I don’t remember…” The social worker interrupted Buffy’s tirade.
“It’s okay, Ms. Summers. Your memory’s fine. This is what, we at Social Services like to call, a surprise visit.” Oh, that was just perfect. Didn’t this lady know you never surprise a Slayer? She should have tossed her out the window when she had the chance instead of ‘possessing’ her coffee mug when Buffy had her case of invisibility. But, she knew better. That would be wrong. But it would have felt so good. Buffy shook the thought from her head, placing the Doublemeat bag onto the coffee table before taking a seat next to Dawn.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you, but…” Another interruption.
“But you were at work. Then you went to get dinner for your sister and your friend.” Odd. Was she pleased? That sure sounded like approval in her voice. “Don’t worry, Ms. Summers. This won’t take long. I’ve seen all that I’ve needed to already.” Buffy eyed the social worker curiously while Dawn moved closer to her sister. “You know, I was sure that I’d have to recommend that Dawn be placed in a foster home when I first met you. But now, it seems that I was wrong.” Buffy smiled at the words. So, she was making a difference.
“Um, does that mean that we’re okay?” Ms. Kroger looked over to Tara, smiling at the near innocence in her question.
“You’re okay, miss. Dawn’s grades have been improving. Ms. Summers is bringing in a steady income and acting like a mother that her sister needs. Plus, it seems like your presence here is helpful to these two based on how Dawn behaves around you. So, yes. I’d say you’re okay.” The three women smiled at one another upon hearing Ms. Kroger’s words. “But, don’t take this to mean that you’re out of the woods. It’s only been a few months. Social Services need considerably more time before making a final decision.”
“Oh.” Dawn sulked as Buffy gently caressed her sister’s arm. Ms. Kroger, sensing the sudden change in mood, decided to reassure the group.
“But, if you keep going the way you are now, I don’t see why Dawn should have to be placed in foster care.” She looked at Buffy as she spoke. “You’re doing a commendable job, Ms. Summers. More than most people are willing to do.” Buffy smiled at the once hated social worker.
“Thank you, Ms. Kroger.” The social worker nodded before she rose from the armchair.
“Well, I should leave you three to your dinner before it gets cold.” Dawn giggled slightly as the women joined Ms. Kroger on her feet. “And I promise. Next time, the visit will be scheduled.” Buffy led Ms. Kroger to the front door, a playful smile on her face.
“Thanks ever so.” Buffy smirked as the words came out of her mouth. There was no denying it. Spike was in her blood. Thing was, she didn’t mind one bit.
Dinner was relatively uneventful. Sure, it was lighthearted, but it was evident that Buffy was still depressed. It had been about two weeks since Giles and Spike had left for England. It had been about two weeks since she spoke to them. To Spike. He must have been too busy, what with him trying to piece his life together. Nothing major there. Buffy sighed as she took popped a french fry into her mouth. Maybe she should call later, just to check in. It couldn’t hurt, right?
“So, how was work today, Buffy?”
“Hmm. What?” Dawn smiled at her sister. Buffy was always somewhere else nowadays whenever she or Tara tried to talk to her. Dawn knew what was on her mind. The same thing that was on hers. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed Spike. Maybe more than Buffy. Okay, that wasn’t possible. While Dawn had only lost a friend, Buffy had lost her friend and ex-lover. Why Buffy ever pushed him away, she’d never know. But, things could be different now. He was back from the dead. There was a second chance. Not many of those in life. You had to grab them and make the most of them.
“Work? How was it?” Buffy smiled at her sister as she spoke.
“Oh, you know. The usual.” Tara chimed in.
“So, you slayed vampires at the bank?” Buffy grinned at Tara as she tossed the wadded straw wrapper at her playfully.
“Not that usual. The usual I had in mind was the boring and mundane.” Tara smiled as she flicked the errant paper wad at Dawn.
“Hey! What did I do?”
“Nothing. That’s what makes it evil.” Tara had a playful malevolence to her voice as she tried to imitate the dialect of one of those old black and white evil masterminds. The same mastermind that always spilled their plans to the hero so the hero could foil him before the movie ended. Dawn smirked at Tara as she reached for one of Buffy’s fries for ammunition. However, Buffy’s hand moved faster, catching Dawn’s wrist.
“Uh uh. Those are mine.”
“But I finished mine.” Buffy smiled at Dawn.
“So, you’re gonna waste mine just to toss at Tara?”
“Well, you started this.”
“No, I didn’t.” Tara spoke, a hint of laughter in her voice now.
“Actually, you did. If you didn’t throw that wrapper at me, none of this would have happened.” Buffy’s eyes gazed at Tara before they returned to the fry in her fingers.
“Well, in that case.” Whap. Tara’s smile faded as the french fry bounced off her nose and into her empty glass. “I guess it’s fitting that I end it.” Dawn giggled as the fry settled at the bottom of the glass.
“Two points!” The group started to laugh at Dawn’s observation. It was a rather nice chain of events. Even for a Slayer. As the laughter subsided, Buffy spoke.
“So, what do you guys want to do tonight?” Tara spoke as she began placing her food wrappers into the paper bag.
“Um, Xander called earlier. Said that he and Anya were stopping by with the, uh, the outfits.” Buffy looked up at Tara as she heard the words.
“No.” Please oh please oh please let it not be true. “When you say ‘outfits’?” Dawn nodded as she spoke.
“Uh huh. Anya’s finally picked out the bridesmaids’ dresses.” Buffy sighed, wondering if there was a chance that she’d be wearing something made of silk, of polyester. Even cotton would be fine. Anything but larvae. “But they’re gonna stop off at the hospital first. Xander needs to pick up some pain medication.”
Tara frowned at the thought of Xander still being in pain. When she had first seen him at the hospital, she couldn’t believe that one person could be capable of so much evil. She was grateful that she’d never met this Doc person. And she was even more grateful when Buffy told the group that Spike had killed him. One less evil in the world might not make that much of a difference, but it was nice to think it did. Tara spoke once again, trying to lighten the mood.
“So, you think Anya will go with the pink satin number or the burlap covered in mucus?” Buffy and Dawn chimed in almost simultaneously, a hint of frustration in their voices.
“Burlap.” The sisters looked at each other before they smiled at one another. Buffy spoke as Tara chuckled slightly.
“Well, let’s get this all cleaned up before they show up. Wouldn’t want Anya to think we’re filthy animals, leaving trash all over the place.” Dawn responded, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
“Yeah. Last thing we’d want is for our dresses to throw up at the sight of our garbage.” Buffy smirked as she got up, gathering up her errant wrappers into the paper bag Tara handed to her.
“With Anya, you never know, Dawnie. You never know.”
“So, tell me again? Why Indian?” Spike prodded at his curry chicken with a fork, the greenish yellow color doing nothing for his palette. Giles grabbed another mouthful of rice and dhal, savoring the taste. Being in America had its drawbacks. For one, not many Indian cuisine restaurants were located in Sunnydale. You were lucky if you could find a decent Thai restaurant. However, a coffeehouse. No problem. You couldn’t walk a block without running into one. Giles answered Spike’s question as soon as he was able to talk.
“My God. You’re a vampire.”
“Oi. Not sure what I am.” Giles shook his head, a smile on his face.
“Fine. Were a vampire. And you’re actually picky about what you eat?” Spike had to smirk at the Watcher’s observation. There was a time when he was eating puppies that Drusilla had found him. He had no choice but to eat. He was crippled. Helpless. And Buffy was the one that hurt him. Once again, doubt floated to the surface. If he weren’t careful, he’d have to go see a shrink. All these damn insecurities were starting to irritate the hell out of him.
“Yeah. At least my food didn’t look like a bloody infection at the time.” Spike thought about his comment before he spoke again. “Well, not this infected anyway.” Giles softly chuckled as he had another helping of rice.
“Alright. Tell you what. Next time you pick where we eat.” Spike smiled at the offer. He knew exactly where they’d eat next. “Probably be a place that serves fish and chips, no doubt.” Okay, scratch that idea. Spike finally relented as he tore off a hunk of meat from the breast with the fork, holding it up to his mouth. Unfortunately, doubt began to overcome him again. “For God’s sake. Just eat the damn thing.” Spike eyed Giles, noting the hint of anger in his voice. After all Giles had done for him, it seemed a minor price to pay, eating the food in front of him.
“Oh, what the hell. Cheers, mate.” Spike sighed as he placed the morsel of meat into his mouth. As he chewed, the flavor expanded in his mouth. “Hmm, not bad.” He noted that Giles was grinning now, taking a sip of beer. They’d have to be careful. It wouldn’t bode well, showing up plastered for the Council. Then again, it could be fun.
“Damn right it’s not bad. It’s bloody brilliant.” Spike softly chuckled, watching Giles take another handful from his plate. The man couldn’t hold his liquor worth a damn. Or, maybe this was how he really behaved. After all, the man was a Ripper once. “You should really do away with the silverware though, if you want the whole experience.” Spike considered him for a second before putting the fork down.
“Already come this far. Might as well go all out.” Spike furiously grabbed a handful of rice and lentils, tossing the mixture into his mouth. Giles laughed loudly, the attendants in the restaurant turning toward the commotion. Giles meekly apologized with an awkward look as Spike grabbed another handful.
“You know, you can eat civilly with your hands.”
“Yeah, and I could try to learn ballet. But it ain’t gonna happen.” Giles looked at him quizzically, before Spike spoke again. “And besides, we’re celebrating. Remember? Civil and celebrating don’t go hand in hand, Rupert.” Giles shot him a smirk as he took another swig from his bottle.
“What the hell.” Giles took another swig as he watched Spike devour the food on his plate.
Xander stood at the counter of the pharmacy, waiting for the pharmacist, Phil, to return with his much needed medication. He hated the fact that he still needed them to sleep, but his ribs were still bothering him. He wondered how Giles was doing. “Probably worse than me. He’s like a relic. There’s no way he’s not feeling the pain.” Then again, Giles didn’t have a fiancée with a libido in constant overdrive. He had promised himself that he’d abstain from sex. Too bad he was such a bad liar. He never knew what hit him that night he was released from the hospital. Xander smiled at the memory, though. It was a pretty good night. As the thought fluttered through his mind, Phil interrupted him.
“Here you go, pal. Careful with those. That’s a pretty powerful scrip you got there.” Xander nodded at the pharmacist as he began to move to find Anya.
“Thanks for the concern, but I’m feeling better.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. He was feeling better. And he still had two more refills on the medication, so he was still okay there. No chance of him becoming addicted. Well, he was addicted to sex. That didn’t necessarily mean that he’d be addicted to anything else. Did it?
“Hey, Xander. Did you get the pills?” Xander walked over to his girlfriend, placing his arm about her shoulder. He showed her the bottle with his other hand.
“Got ‘em right here.”
“Good. We should get going before Roy closes the shop. I’d like to see how the gowns look on the bridesmaids.” Xander gently chuckled.
“What are you worried about? I thought the dresses looked fine.” Anya huffed as she spoke.
“What are you talking about? There’s not even a trace of Melorian cocoons on them. It’s going to be horrible. I can feel it.” Xander tried to comfort her, but she didn’t give him the chance. “This is how it starts. First the dresses are ruined. Then the caterers don’t prepare enough toad eyes. Then we have squabbling between your folks and mine. This wedding is doomed. Doomed!”
“An!” She snapped out of her tirade, finally seeing that Xander was smiling at her. “You’re worrying too much. We messed up the first time.” He gently squeezed her shoulder as he spoke. “But this time, we’re getting married. No ifs, ands, or buts.” Anya returned Xander’s smile.
“You mean it?”
“Course I do, babe.” He really did. The first time, uncertainty and doubt stepped in, making Xander call off the first wedding. However, seeing Buffy in the cemetery that night, holding Spike in her arms as she lost him, made Xander realize that time was too precious to waste. He wouldn’t waste any more time. He’d spend the rest of his time with the woman standing next to him. Xander looked down at Anya, a smile playing across his face. As he leaned in to kiss her, they were interrupted by a man in a white coat.
“Excuse me. Are you friends of Willow Rosenberg?” They both looked at the man curiously, deducing that he was a doctor based on his nametag. Wondering what he was trying to get at, Xander spoke.
“That’s right. What’s wrong?” Xander felt somewhat guilty. With what had gone down with Doc, the group hadn’t really thought of visiting Willow like they usually did. He’d have to make time, once he healed up. It was only right. She was still his best friend. Before the doctor could respond, Anya extended her hand, the doctor surprised to see the offer. He shook her hand as Anya spoke.
“So, what do you have to tell us about Willow, Dr. Barnes?” The doctor took a deep breath before he spoke.
“I think you should come with me.” Xander and Anya looked at each other, wondering what was wrong. Something had to be wrong, based on the tone of the doctor’s voice. They both nodded agreement as they followed Dr. Barnes down the hallway.
“You should call him.” Buffy looked at her sister sitting on the counter while Tara helped her with the dishes.
“Hmm. What’s that, Dawnie?”
“Call him. He won’t mind.” Buffy knew whom she meant. Who else could she possibly be talking about?
“I think Dawn’s right. I know I’d be glad to talk to someone that I haven’t spoken to in a long time. Say, two weeks?” She couldn’t believe it. They were ganging up on her. A Slayer. And they were winning. Buffy sighed as she passed a clean yet damp plate to Tara to dry.
“Look, even if I did call Giles…” That ought to show them that she wasn’t thinking about him. “…it’s like almost three in the morning. I’m pretty sure they’re sleeping.” Dawn laughed as she spoke.
“Right. Spike and Giles. Together. Acting like a couple of well behaved gentlemen.” Buffy shuddered at the thought. Why hadn’t that thought even occurred to her before? After all, Giles was almost like Spike. Well, without the supernatural powers. That was clearly evident when she found out he had slept with her mom when they thought they were teenagers. Twice.
“Well, I know Giles.” A little too well, actually. “And he won’t let Spike get into any mischief.” Buffy sounded like she almost believed herself. She passed Tara the last plate as she turned to Dawn.
“Yeah. I’m sure. They’re probably all tucked in their beds, waiting for Mr. Sandman.” Tara giggled at Dawn’s musing. Buffy, on the other hand, didn’t. She was now worried about what trouble those two men were getting into.
“They might not be sleeping. But I’m sure they’re at home, watching one of those boring British comedies that Giles finds so amusing.” Dawn smirked at her as Tara moved to the counter, grabbing a paper towel to dry her hands. She held one out to Buffy, who gratefully accepted.
“Prove it.”
“What?”
“Call him. My money’s on they’re out getting wasted.”
“Dawn!” Tara laughed with Dawn even though they knew that the image was troubling Buffy. Her Watcher with her ex. Who knew what they could be talking about? Probably Buffy, no doubt. Buffy sighed as she tossed the paper towel into the garbage bin. “Fine. But if I wake them up, you’re the one that’s explaining why I called.” Dawn nodded at her sister, a smile on her face. As long as she got to talk to Spike, it was worth it. Buffy moved toward the phone, about to pick up the receiver, when it rang. Startled by the timing, Buffy reluctantly picked it up. Who knows? It might be Giles on the other end. Or Spike. “Hello?” It was neither.
“Buffy?” Xander’s voice sounded desperate, almost frantic.
“What is it, Xander?” He took a deep breath before he spoke again.
“You have to come down to the hospital. Now.” Seriousness now tinted Buffy’s voice as she spoke.
“Slow down, Xander. Just tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s Willow.” Buffy held her breath, unsure of what she should feel. She hadn’t been able to visit her since the events with Spike transpired. And now. If something bad had happened to her. Without giving Buffy the chance to say goodbye.
“Is she…?” Buffy didn’t want to finish her thought as Dawn and Tara began to piece together the conversation, uncertainty covering them as they listened on. Xander considered Buffy’s words before he spoke again.
“No. She’s not dead.” Frustration now seeped into her voice.
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Buffy.” A moment of silence before Xander spoke again. “Willow’s awake.” Dawn and Tara were startled by the sound of the phone resonating off the tile while Buffy braced herself against the wall, unsure of the words that had just been spoken to her.