Still I Can't Be Still

Summary: Takes place after 'Not Fade Away'. Spike travels to Rome to deliver news to an unsuspecting and unresolved Buffy, whose life isn't exactly the way that she wants it to be. It sounds so vague, but I can't say too much or it will give away major plot points that I have planned! It also may seem a little late and a little cliché, but hopefully I'll be able to work it out. Most definitely a Spike/Buffy fic. If you liked my other, much much older work, then I think you'll enjoy this. ;)

Disclaimer: Oh please, like I own any of this. Oh, and the title was taken from a song by the amazing Idina Menzel.

She lived in Rome. She had a guy, Spencer, a.k.a 'The Immortal". Dawn was happy. She, Dawn, was getting a great education and meeting as many European boys a possible. Her friends were scattered across the world, but she knew they were happy.

So she was happy.

Or content.

Momentarily satisfied? Yeah, that sounds about right. So life was—

"Good. Life is good." Buffy told Willow via her crisp and clear cell phone connection. More bars in more places, just as long as said places are anywhere outside away from trees and large groups of people, any Starbucks on the entire western hemisphere, the third stall in the bathroom at a small, conveniently located and not to mention delicious little deli down the street, and her comfy cushy chair in the corner of her small, quaint little bedroom that resided in her Roman countryside inspired apartment.

"Rome is great, Spencer's great, Dawn's great, my apartment's great, my shoe closet where all my shoes live is great, my shoes are great..."

"And life is only good?" Willow questioned.

"Okay, I admit it sounds a little strange. That I have all this slayer-burden free wonderfulness and I'm still pouty, hoping-for-better Buffy. I just—there's like this void. I can't help but think that something is missing." Buffy replied.

"Something? Like a someone something? Cause if it's a someone something situation then Buffy…"

"I know, Will. I just—I can't go there right now. It's too 'yeeheem' to think about any sort of someone something situation."

"I've seen your 'yeeheem' and I fold. The situation is now on hold." Willow informed Buffy, who sat silently on the other end of the conversation. "Oh, I didn't feel like doing the alliteration thing. I think we killed it." Willow joked.

Buffy smiled. "Right. Well, I think I just may have killed my finances with this eternal phone call so I need to say goodbye before I have to take out a second mortgage."

"Alright, Buff."

"Give Kennedy my best." Buffy told Willow.

"I will. Bye." Willow replied.

Buffy said her goodbye and snapped her phone shut. She looked at the clock and grimaced. It was 7:30 P.M. Spencer would be over in a half hour. It's not that she didn't want to see him, it's just that she didn't look forward to seeing him. …

…Maybe she didn't want to see him.

Buffy sighed as she lifted herself off of her comfy cushy chair and headed toward her closet. She mindlessly shuffled through skirts, shirts, and shoes rejecting one after the other.

"Maybe it'll be Sunnydale sheik tonight." She said to herself as she made her way through a jungle of Prada and Gucci, courtesy of her new beau, to the back of her closet.

"Simple and sophisticated," she said eyeing her choices, "ooh, and cute." She smiled as she pulled out what used to be her favorite lace halter.

"Oh grumble," she muttered as she fumbled with a catastrophic mess of tangled hangers, "no wire hangers ever—words to live by." She sighed. "How and why did I even—"

She freed her halter, but her thoughts stalled when a small black tee fell to the floor at her feet. She hesitated, but bent to a squat and gently cradled the shirt in her hands. She slowly ran her fingers over the rough collar and twirled some loose threads around her index. The ever slightest scent of cigarettes and musk danced around her nostrils, and she unwillingly inhaled. Her heart skipped. Her breathing calmed. She blinked hard and gently bit her bottom lip.

She started to slowly smile as she remembered. Him. The intensity of his eyes, the callous of his fingertips. Him. The cold of his body, the warmth of his arms. Him.

Her muscles relaxed as she eased into the thought of him. She sat back against a wall and draped the shirt over her knee. She fought back tears and willed the corners of her mouth to form a smile again. She knew that this had been—

"Gahh! Mother of…" Buffy jumped as a ferocious clap of thunder momentarily sent her heart racing.

She breathed heavy. "Not fair. "

She panted. "Sure, I can sense when somebody is holding an axe over my head or when the world is about to end, but when it comes to mother nature the slayer gets zip. Huoh, somebody should tell the powers that be that they have a sick sense of humor."

She shook her head and gently placed the shirt in an empty box in the corner of her closet. Her fingers lingered on the center of the shirt before she turned away and placed a lid over the garment.

Buffy heavily exhaled as she stood up and headed out toward her kitchen. She needed a glass of water. She made her way through the main room and passed her front door.

"God!" Buffy jumped again as there was a knock on the door. "0 for 2." She said to herself.

She continued on to the kitchen. "Spencer, I swear to god. " She said as she filled a glass almost to the rim. She stood over her sink for a moment, then slowly made her way back to the door.

"That whole 'better to be early than late' thing is a real load of bullshit. Sure it used to be cute, but now I just want to punch you in the face." She said as she began to open the door.

"And why are you even," she stopped when she noticed a clunky pair of scuffed black boots standing directly across from her own flip-flopped feet, "nice shoes Spence." She smiled.

"Tell me, was I ever going to find out that you were a founding member of 'The Cure' fanclub? Because I gotta say that I—"

Her breath caught as she met with his eyes. His eyes. She focused on the piercing, arctic blue orbs that stood before her. Him. She couldn't look away.

Him.

"What?" She whispered. She breathed heavily and tried to form words, but all that fell from her lips was utter confusion. "Hhh… wha…"

She slowly brought her hand from her side. It seemed to float in the air as she tried to rest her palm on his cheek.

Her fingertips were almost there. She could almost feel him.

She readied herself.

She whispered as her hand still danced through the heavy air, "Spi—"

The power blows.

Eek. Please leave feedback and tell me what you think. Should I continue? It's been a while since I've fanfic-ed it, so please let me know! I've put the second part up just in case there are some undecideds. But please let me know what you think!