Where Angels Tread
By Spike SpeigelWarning
Spike awoke to the sound of cars driving on the street downstairs, birds chirping through the window, and an arm wrapped around his chest. At first, he couldn’t remember how he came to be in his bed. The last thing he remembered was kissing Buffy, enjoying the feel of her once again. But, they had agreed to take it slow. But, as Spike looked over to the side of the bed, he saw Buffy lying on her stomach, her hair tousled, and her upper back exposed.
Spike slowly began to roll out of bed until he felt the hand gently wrap around his forearm.
“Mmm, don’t go.” The sheet slumped down Buffy’s body, Spike somewhat relieved that her camisole was still on her body. Wait. Relieved? What the hell was happening to him? “Too early to get up.”
“Luv, did we…?”
Buffy looked at him through squinted eyes, trying to comprehend what he was asking. After a moment, Buffy’s mind caught up with her. She gently pulled Spike back into the bed, Spike chuckling slightly.
“And what if we did?” Buffy mischievously smiled at Spike, her lips falling on the hollow of his neck. “It’s not like I haven’t seen the whole package before.”
Spike’s chuckle turned into a fit of laughter, that caused by the touch of Buffy’s lips on his sensitive skin. Buffy pushed him onto his back, her hair brushing against his chest as she continued trailing kisses up his chin until she met his lips. Spike reciprocated in kind, his hand gently grasping the nape of Buffy’s neck, pulling her closer to him. Between kisses, Spike tried to enunciate his concerns.
“Mmm, Buffy. We can’t.” While his words said no, his hands now running through her hair indicated yes, yes, oh God yes.
“Well, if you weren’t…such a good…kisser…we…wouldn’t…be having…this problem.”
Spike reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, looking up into Buffy’s green pools, seeing his reflection in them. He smiled at the thought that he now had a reflection, tilting his head to get a better view. Buffy, somewhat concerned about why their kissing session had ceased, queried him.
“What’s wrong, Spike?”
“Um, nothing. Just…just looking at myself.” Buffy looked at him, a hint of confusion on her face. Spike gently traced his fingers around her eyes, indicating what he meant. “That’s a beautiful thing.”
Buffy whispered as she lay against Spike’s chest, wishing that his tee shirt would somehow magically disappear since it was preventing her from touching him. “What?”
Spike matched her whisper, a smile emerging from his lips. “Seeing my reflection in your eyes. I never thought I’d be able to.”
Buffy smiled back at Spike, her hand now cupping his cheek. “I guess I’ve always taken that for granted.” Buffy looked into Spike’s eyes, seeing her own reflection in his, realizing that Spike was right. It was indeed a beautiful thing.
“What do you see when you look in my eyes?”
Buffy was a bit taken aback by Spike’s vulnerability, but smiled nonetheless. She enjoyed the fact that he was opening up to her, just as she had when she had come back from the dead. She sat up, legs now straddling Spike’s chest, as she contemplated his question. Then, the words came to her and she knew that they felt right. Spike moved up, his elbows propped behind him as he saw the smile emerge on Buffy’s face. He was about to ask her what she was thinking about, but Buffy beat him to the punch, answering the question.
“I see tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Spike sat up, looking at Buffy as she continued smiling.
“Look, I know that with my line of work, there’s probably a good chance I don’t have that many tomorrows.”
“Buffy…”
Buffy moved forward, silencing Spike’s concerns with a gentle kiss. Her hands were now on either side of his face, as she pulled away from the kiss, continuing her thought. “We have to be realistic here. I should have been dead a long time ago. Actually, I was.” Spike tilted his head forward, his forehead gently resting against Buffy’s as he heard the sorrow beginning to overcome her. “But, I have a second chance. We both do.”
“I know, pet.”
“So, I just want every tomorrow from here on out to have one moment where I can see myself in your eyes.”
Spike nodded agreement, moving his lips to her cheek, gently kissing her. Buffy leaned into the kiss, Spike whispering. “I think I can do that.”
“Good.” Buffy’s hands moved from Spike’s face, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling his lips back to hers. She moaned against his lips, Spike pulling back once more, this time catching Buffy off guard. “What’s wrong?”
“Uh, you never answered my question.”
“Which was?” Buffy knew what he was talking about but she liked that he was playing the innocent boyfriend. Boyfriend. God, that sounded good.
“We didn’t, uh…”
“Didn’t what? Make love?”
“Well, I was gonna say make the beast with two backs, but yeah.”
Buffy gently giggled, pushing Spike back onto the bed. “God, you really are British, aren’t you?”
“What was your first clue, Sherlock?” Spike’s arms wrapped around Buffy’s waist, pulling her against his chest. “The accent or the hair?”
“Hair?”
“Cor, woman. Billy Idol knicked this do. How many times do I have to tell you people this.”
“Just until we care.”
Buffy began to squirm in Spike’s grasp, trying to get a better position but Spike wouldn’t relent. Instead, he tried his query again.
“So, did we or didn’t we?”
Buffy grinned as her mouth moved to Spike’s ear, nibbling it.
“Mmm, no. But, if we can do this for a while, I really don’t mind.” Her lips began to trail kisses down his neck until she came face to face with him once again. “Much.”
Spike smiled back, gently kissing the tip of her nose. “Glad to hear it, luv. Glad to hear it.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Fred smiled back at Gunn as they made their way up the steps of the building. While Charles Gunn had a knack of dealing with the demon element of Los Angeles, the human element was still disconcerting to him. First, there was the very new experience of having Fred as his girlfriend. Now, there was the fact that they were about to walk into a building filled with loonies. Talk about a contrast.
“This is where Cordy’s vision pointed out, so in we go, Charles.”
“But why us? Why can’t Lorne do this? He’s more of a people person.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think the nice people need another reason to think they’re not entirely healthy in their mental faculties.”
Gunn smiled as he held the door open for his cute little girlfriend. “You know, I just love it when you bring the science. Makes you sound very sexy.”
Fred giggled slightly, gently patting him on the chest as she walked past him. “Charles. I thought we agreed on no foreplay while on the job?”
“Okay. How about we get to the main event then?” He was rewarded with a ‘we’re here to work, not play’ smirk. “Gotcha.” Gunn smiled as he walked past her. “I can wait till we’re off the clock.”
“Charlesssss.”
Gunn chuckled as Fred caught up to him, both walking side by side. Next came the obvious question as Gunn looked over to Fred. “So, any idea of who we’re here to help?”
Fred shook her head slowly, uncertain of an answer. “Cordy said that he was a Caucasian with a grizzly look. I’m guessing a beard.”
“Probably. So…”
Before Gunn could finish his statement, the shouts began to permeate the institution once again. Both turned to the hallway behind the reception desk, seeing a middle aged man running down the hall, yelling at the top of his lungs. As Gunn was about to act, the receptionist turned back, yelling at the individual in the hospital gown.
“Mr. Tweedy!”
However, Jack Tweedy paid her no mind, running blindly, his head focused on the floor in front of him. That’s the reason why he didn’t see the two people standing in front of him. Or, more accurately, the two people he plowed over.
Gunn and Fred fell backwards, Gunn instinctively grabbing the troubled man, Fred stating the obvious.
“Look, a beard.”
Gunn looked down at the man as the orderlies raced down the hallway, evident to the casual passerby that they were chasing Jack Tweedy for a while by the length of their inhalations coupled with the rise and fall of their chests. “Hey, man. You okay?”
The answer was not what Gunn was expecting. “He’s here! Have to get away.” Jack turned to Gunn, grabbing his shirt violently, pulling him so they were now face to face. “He’s going to kill us all!”
Before Gunn could question the man, the orderlies were on Jack, pulling him up violently as they led him back to his room.
“That’s enough of that, Mr. Tweedy. Everything’s okay. You’re safe here.”
Jack almost cackled maniacally if that was even possible as he was pulled back to his room, the tops of his feet dragging against the tile. “You fools. He’s here! He’ll kill us all!”
The other orderly gently chuckled as everyone except the two employees from Angel Investigations took him for granted. “Sure thing, Mr. Tweedy. And this William the Bloody’s the reason why he’s back.” Both men started to laugh as John (call me Jack) Tweedy continued to struggle in his captors’ grasp. “William the Bloody. What a mouthful.”
As John Tweedy disappeared down the hall, the receptionist finally realized that she wasn’t alone in the reception area.
“Excuse me. Is there something I can help you with?”
Fred looked to Gunn before speaking. “Um, that’s okay. I think we’ve seen all we needed to see.”
Both individuals turned back to the entrance, the receptionist burying her head into her tabloid once again as Gunn asked the obvious
“What do you think that was all about?”
“Honestly, I have no idea.”
Gunn halfheartedly chuckled as they made it outside once again, heading down the stairs to the Los Angeles Mental Institution. “Maybe he’s doped up?”
“I don’t think so. He seemed pretty lucid to me, Charles.”
Gunn nodded, adjusting his shirt. “Yeah. Had a hell of a grip, too.” As they reached the pickup, Gunn spoke. “What do you think he meant by William the…what was it?”
Fred filled in the blank. “Bloody. Never heard of him.”
“Well, let’s head on back. Maybe Lorne or Angel knows what this is all about.”
Fred meekly smiled as she got into the truck, Jack Tweedy’s words bothering her for some odd reason. It was just the ramblings of a madman. That was all. Right?
“So, the niblet’s okay?”
Buffy hung up the phone, Spike standing at the kitchen counter, placing another English muffin into the toaster. As he began to spread the jelly on the first one, he felt familiar arms wrapping around his waist, Buffy’s head peeking over his shoulder, looking at his culinary masterpiece.
“She’s okay. Told her I fell asleep here. I think she’ll like the surprise I’m going to bring home later.” Spike smirked at Buffy’s hint as he turned his attention back to his task. “So, this what you call breakfast?”
“No, pet. This is what I call lunch. We missed breakfast since you wouldn’t let me out of the sodding bedroom.”
Buffy let go of her embrace, moving to Spike’s side, swiping the piece of English muffin that Spike had just finished spreading. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you didn’t like my company?”
Spike smiled as he moved to spread the remaining piece of muffin. “Well, see. That just proves we’re not meant to be.”
Buffy moved away from the kitchen counter, walking over to the other side of the kitchen, taking a seat on one of the barstools lined against the counter of the outer kitchen wall. “That’s not funny.”
“Luv, I was just fooling.”
“I know, but we were so close to…” Spike could hear the sorrow in her voice. Before he could respond, the other English muffin ejected from the toaster, Spike quickly placing them on a plate before moving over to the kitchen counter, looking at Buffy.
“I’m sorry, pet. Promise, no more jokes.”
Buffy looked up, seeing the remorse in his eyes. “It’s okay. Think I’m still trying to get up. That’s all.” Spike nodded, placing a bit of English muffin into his mouth.
“So, tell me what I’ve missed since I’ve been gone.”
Buffy opened her mouth, about to speak. However, as quickly as it opened, it closed just as fast. Where should she start? Xander and Anya were now man and wife. Ms. Kroger had given the family environment her seal of approval. And Willow was back among the conscious. Where should she start indeed?
Spike moved over to Buffy, seeing the troubled look in her eyes.
“What is it, pet?”
Buffy looked over to Spike, finally noticing that he was now sitting next to her. She smiled awkwardly as she spoke.
“Nothing. Just thinking about the question.”
“Didn’t think it was loaded, luv.”
“I know. It’s just…” Buffy sighed as she spoke. “It’s just…a lot has happened since you’ve been gone.”
“Yeah?”
Buffy nodded, Spike never taking his eyes off her. Buffy decided to go from small to big. “Well, Social Services says we’re okay for now.” Spike smiled as he nodded approval. “Xander and Anya’s wedding was yesterday.”
“Sorry I couldn’t get back in time.”
Buffy smiled as she reached over to Spike’s hand, gently squeezing it.
“It’s okay. I know you had your hands full in England.”
“Yeah, I did. But, still. Woulda been nice to see the boy not run out this time.”
Both shared a small laugh before Buffy gently scolded him by tapping his leg. “That’s not funny.”
“Coulda fooled me.” Another gentle laugh from Buffy before she continued.
“You gonna keep making fun of my friend or you gonna let me finish my rundown?”
Spike raised his hands innocently, indicating for Buffy to continue. After a moment of silence, Buffy finally mustered up the courage to get the words out, unsure of how Spike would react.
“Um, and Willow’s awake.”
Buffy looked up at Spike, certain that he would go on the defensive. Instead, all she saw was a look of confusion.
“Come again?”
“Yeah. Will’s awake.”
Buffy never took her eyes off Spike as he put the knife down to the side of his muffin. He contemplated Buffy’s words, his brow furrowed before he spoke.
“So, this is a good thing then.” Spike raised his gaze, a meek smile on his face. “Right?” Buffy nodded her head slightly, indicating the positive.
“I think so. I mean, she’s doing okay. But…”
Spike finished her sentence for her.
“But you’re not entirely sure if she’s gonna fall off the wagon again. Innit right?”
Buffy wanted to deny his observation, but something inside her stopped her from lying to herself. There was still that inkling of doubt in the back of her head. And, that was one inkling too much for Buffy Summers. Buffy was so wrapped in her thoughts, that she didn’t feel the hands move onto her shoulders, Spike now standing behind her, gently squeezing.
“Don’t worry, luv. This time things will be different.”
Buffy’s doubts came to the surface, her voice tinted with sorrow.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because she’s Red. She’s a Scooby, no matter how much she tries to think differently.” Buffy gently laughed, her body moving backward, leaning against Spike’s chest.
“You have all the answers, don’t you, Spike.”
“Actually, my name’s William.” Buffy looked up, seeing a small smirk on Spike’s face.
“I know that. But…” Buffy thought about her response before speaking. “Do you want me to call you William from now on?” Buffy thought that’s what he meant. He said he wanted a new start. Maybe changing his name would help facilitate that. However, Spike just chuckled as he moved to get his wallet, dropping the Green Card on the counter. Buffy looked on in puzzlement as Spike walked the two or three steps into the living room, dropping onto the sofa rear first, the cushions exhaling as he did so.
“Take a look.”
Buffy turned her gaze from Spike to the kitchen counter, looking at the identification that made Spike a real person. At least on paper, that is.
“It’s a Green Card.”
“Take a glance at the name, pet?”
Buffy’s eyes moved from the picture of Spike, noting that he looked all austere and gruff, a very good look on him by the way, making her way to the name at the bottom of the card. That’s when she realized what Spike meant.
“Tell me you didn’t…”
“Blame your sodding Watcher. Whatever possessed him to give me that surname is beyond my comprehension.” Spike reclined his body, his legs swinging onto the couch, his arm now covering his eyes as he spoke. “Bloody poetic, is what he said.”
Buffy considered the piece of identification once again, smiling now at the thought of Giles picking this name for Spike. Buffy knew her Watcher well enough to know that this was his subtle way of saying that Spike was okay with him. Even if he was the Slayer’s new beau.
She laid the card back on the counter, moving from the counter toward the living room. Spike seemed too lost in thought to realize that Buffy was now lying on his chest, her legs entwining with his as she pulled his arm from his face gently.
“You know, it’s not a bad name.”
“Don’t you start patronizing me now, okay?”
“No, no. I mean, it’s a good name.” Buffy smiled down at Spike, her hand moving through his bed ridden hair, thinking that he looked even sexier when he woke up. “I’ve always wondered what your last name was.”
Spike looked up at Buffy, an eyebrow raised at her.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Spike’s curiosity got the better of him.
“Since when?”
Buffy smiled at Spike, her hand now on his chest, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. The silence hovered in the air for a bit, Spike’s look turning from one of curiosity to one of desperation.
“Buffy?”
“What?”
Spike’s hands moved from his sides, his fingers gently tracing against her sides and the small of her back. If he remembered anything vital, it was the locations on her body that made her ticklish. Buffy began to chuckle, her lips pursed to prevent any laughter from escaping into the room.
“You gonna tell me now?”
Buffy quickly shook her head, a huge smile on her lips as she fought to maintain her composure under Spike’s ‘torture’. However, her attempt was futile once Spike’s fingers fell onto her ribcage. Once there, Buffy’s laughter exploded, her speech flowing from her lips.
“Okay! Okay! I give!”
Spike smirked at his victory, his fingers relenting as his arms wrapped about her waist, holding her closer to him.
“Okay then. Out with it, Slayer.”
Buffy frowned playfully, her hands resting palm down on his chest as she spoke, her face no more than three inches away from his. “When Giles first told me about you.” Spike nodded, a genuine frown on his face.
“You know, I can’t take back what I’ve done. Right?”
Buffy nodded solemnly, remembering back to her conversation on the balcony with Willow. “Well, neither can Angel. And he’s doing okay.” A subtle smile played on her lips as she tried to assuage Spike’s fears. “Right?”
Spike nodded, understanding what Buffy was trying to say. “So, what did Giles say that made you wonder about my last name?”
“The way he introduced you. William the Bloody. What kind of name is that, anyhow?”
Buffy gently giggled as Spike pulled her closer to him, their noses almost touching.
“Careful, luv. That name was feared for a reason.”
Buffy gently kissed him on the nose before quickly reclining backwards, her legs now about his waist.
“So, what was your last name?” Spike looked at her in puzzlement. “Before you were turned.”
“Oh.” Spike made no movement, enjoying the sight of the woman in his view, a genuine smile on her face. Because of him, no less. “I don’t really remember. I’ve a feeling that even without this flotsam of a memory, I wouldn’t remember.” A frown covered his lips as he spoke. “That wasn’t a good time for me. Back when I was alive. It was…it was…”
Buffy silenced him, her index and middle finger resting on his lips.
“It’s okay.”
Spike gave her a small smile, gently kissing her fingers as though she was holding them to him because she had a cut and wanted him to make it better. Buffy smiled at his tenderness before speaking.
“Anyway. I like your new name. Giles did a good job.”
“You think so? I thought it came off kinda Norman Bates-ish.”
“No, it’s good. It suits you.”
“What makes you say that, luv?”
Buffy slowly moved her fingers from his lips, gently stroking his temple. “Your eyes. They’re as blue as a cold December night.” At first, Spike thought that Buffy had just called him cold hearted. But, the look in her eyes quickly dismissed that thought. She looked serene as her gaze entwined with his. After a moment of silence between the two reunited souls, Spike’s voice filled the void.
“If you like it, can’t be all bad then.”
Buffy leaned forward, her body now resting on his, her head against his chest. Her ear lay near his heart, still unfamiliar with the newly beating heart now present within. While unfamiliar, it was very comforting. A reminder. That he was really there with her. “So, William Winters. What do you want to do today? This being your first day back and all.”
Spike subtly smiled upon hearing his name on her lips. It sounded good when she said it. It sounded right. Spike tilted his head forward, tenderly nuzzling his nose against her hair that smelled faintly of peaches. “Just wanna stay here a bit longer, pet.”
Buffy slowly wrapped her arms around Spike’s waist, her eyes still focused on the television screen that reflected the image of two people trying to make up for lost time they had foolishly thrown to the wayside. Looking at the image, Buffy realized a strange truth. The man in her embrace had once been one of her most feared enemies. She had dedicated her life to ridding the world of his kind.
But, Spike had never really been a common vampire. He had shown bouts of humanity. That much was evident when he helped her in stopping Angelus from opening the gates to Hell. He had shown a genuine concern for Dawn when Glory was trying to bleed her to return to her own dimension. And he had shown to her when she had been resurrected how he truly felt about her, even without a soul. He had loved her, even though, for all concerned, he shouldn’t have been able to.
But, that was what drew Buffy to him. Even though he was the Big Bad, to her he had become a lover. A confidante. A friend. Buffy smiled at the thought, a whisper escaping her lips as she lay against his chest, feeling at ease in his presence. “Stay forever.”
Buffy wasn’t sure if Spike had heard her. After all, his hearing might not be what it once used to be. But, her answer came in the form of a kiss on the top of her head followed by Spike’s arm wrapping around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. Neither said a word, but both knew what the other was thinking, the thought bringing a tender smile to both as they lay together, their bodies entwined, Buffy unsure where her body ended and where Spike’s begun. Her eyes remained on the television, enjoying the sight of the man holding her because he wanted to. Because he loved her.