Buffy stalked through the cemetery, begging for something to kill. She ignored the tingles on her neck, knowing he was there, but hoping against hope that he would leave her be for once. She didn't know what bothered her more: the fact that he was always there, or the fact he was the one that had broken it off.
She had just slain a small group of freshly risen vampires, and the small hairs across her body hadn't smoothed out yet. "What do you want?" she said roughly.
"Just wanted to talk, pet," he said, removing himself from the shadow that he had watched her.
"We never just talk," she laughed.
"We will this time," he promised, planting himself atop a tombstone.
"About what?" she asked, crossing her arms in front of him, keeping her ground. It had become too much of a habit to tackle him whenever she saw him, but she was trying to control herself.
"This 'thing' that's between us."
"There is no 'thing' between us. Haven't we gone over this already?" she asked annoyed. She turned, walking toward Rovello Drive.
"Buffy," he huffed, catching up with her quickly. He circled in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. "Please. If nothing else, let me talk."
"Well talk." She returned to her previous posture, arms crossed, feet planted.
"If you don't admit that there's something between us, I'll end it. Right here, right now. So please," he begged, "what is this?"
She was taken aback as she heard his words, but something told her he was bluffing. So she tried to call him on it. "There's nothing between us," she reiterated. She pushed passed him, continuing her walk.
"Okay. Then it's over. Whatever this is. I'll talk to you if you ever want to talk, but that's it, Buffy." And with that, he walked off, not looking back, not trying to get her to come back to his crypt. Nothing. So she was left to walk home alone, to curl up in her bed, and to keep her hold on reality. She didn't cry. No… She felt empty. She felt like her own reality had just been ripped from her, again. She couldn't remember falling asleep that night.
He had kept his word. He never sought her out. He never crept up on her in the darkness, or in her solitude. She never felt the tingles up her spine while she performed her daily duties as she normally did.
So here she was, walking in the same cemetery, feeling as empty as ever. "Buffy," a deep timbre came from behind her. It wasn't the voice she was expecting and hoping it to be. She turned quickly, immediately letting her guard down as the voice connected in her mind.
"Riley!" she exclaimed, trying not to fake the joy that she showed.
"I need your help," he said simply. "I had hoped to find you here."
"Yeah, well, here I am," she said plainly. "What do you need?"
"Come on. I'll tell you on the way," he urged, leading her to the rather large SUV that was parked just outside the gates.
That had been the night of the Suvolte demons. He had told her what had gone on while he was in South America. He had even told her of the one woman that was in his squad. Her name was Sam, and even though she had flirted and caught his eye on a few occasions, he couldn't seem to get Buffy off his mind. "I know what you mean," was all she said.
They easily found the demon and its eggs, tracking it to an old pipeline that was no longer in working order. It was dark and dank: perfect conditions for the eggs to hatch. After blowing them all up with one of his grenades, the pair traveled to Buffy's house, and continued to "catch up." She didn't tell him about her "encounters" with Spike, but she did tell him about her mom dying, and her own death as well. He nearly cried, hearing about Joyce's death, and then not being here for her when she needed him, but being the Soldier Boy that he was, he kept his emotions intact. It didn't take many days for the pair to become a couple once more.
…
…
Spike watched as Soldier Boy waltzed back into Buffy's life, and she accepted him back with no reservations. He wanted to go up to him and kick his ass for leaving that wonderful woman in the first place, not to mention him not being there when she needed someone the most. He felt bad as it were. It had been months since he'd talked to her, even though he looked out for her whenever she patrolled and he wasn't with her. "Bleedin' idiot. Stupid wanker," he said to himself, mindlessly kicking a soda can as he walked down the street. He didn't know where he was going, and he didn't care. It's not like he had somewhere to be or someone to be with.
He found himself in a rather shady part of town, but it wasn' too bad for civil demons, like himself. It was better that Willie's. He wasn't going to get beat up here. He walked in, sitting down close to the bar and ordered his two favorite drinks—a pint of blood and a few shots of Jack. He looked around, nodding to the few demons he recognized, before landing his gaze on the stage. He saw a microphone set up, and realized it was karaoke night. Should be interesting, he thought. He sipped his blood as he listened to a few demons give their renditions of the classics. It was hard for him not to think of them as butchering the songs.
Two shots and a pint of blood later, the lights were cut. Even with his vampire vision, seeing things around him was difficult. He felt the tension in the room increase dramatically before a voice came over the speakers. "Sorry folks," the owned said easily. "This singer prefers to remain anonymous. Don't be worried. The Slayer's not going to come in, so if you'd please give a round of applause up for the singer." Slowly, applause slipped through the crowd. Easy music started, and the tension almost dissipated.
Comparisons are easily done
Once you've had a taste of perfection
Like an apple hanging from a tree
I picked the ripest one
I still got the seed
What little alcohol that was in Spike's system was immediately gone. He'd only heard that voice sing once, and it had been months prior. This voice was amazingly beautiful. He never knew a voice that had said such horrible things to him could sound so great. He strained his eyes to see the woman on stage, but to no avail, so he sat back and listened.
You said move on
Where do I go
I guess second best
Is all I will know
Cause when I'm with him
I am thinking of you
Thinking of you
What you would do if
You were the one
Who was spending the night
Oh I wish that I
Was looking into your eyes
So many thoughts were running through his head as he listened to her. What is she saying? Does she mean she misses me? Or was I the "second best?"
You're like an Indian summer
In the middle of winter
Like a hard candy
With a surprise center
How do I get better
Once I've had the best
You said there's
Tons of fish in the water
So the waters I will test
He kissed my lips
I taste your mouth
He pulled me in
I was disgusted with myself
Surely she's not talking about me? She always said she was disgusted with herself when she was with me, so she must be talking about him? But why does she sound so sad?
You're the best
And yes I do regret
How I could let myself
Let you go
Now the lesson's learned
I touched it I was burned
Oh I think you should know
Cause when I'm with him
I am thinking of you
Thinking of you
What you would do if
You were the one
Who was spending the night
Oh I wish that I
Was looking into your eyes
Looking into your eyes
Looking into your eyes
Oh won't you walk through
And bust in the door
And take me away
Oh no more mistakes
Cause in your eyes I'd like to stay...
"Thank you," she said as she slipped off the stage. Spike hurriedly paid for his drinks and rushed to the back where he knew she would slip out. The lights were on as soon as she was off the stage, so he managed to catch up in time to see a flash of blonde stealing out the back door. He caught the door before it slammed, and slowly walked behind her.
"Buffy?" he questioned quietly, still several feet behind her.
She stopped dead in her tracks, not even turning to face him. "Were… were you in there?" she asked, trying to hide the sniffles so thick in her voice.
"Yeah. Just stoppin' in for a drink."
"So you heard…"
"Yeah, I heard. So what? It's not like it was about me?" He tried extraordinarily hard not to let it end like a question, but he realized too late that it didn't work. He knew it wasn't about him, so why did he come after her?
…
…
Please tell me I'm imagining this, she thought, praying he wouldn't circle around her. He didn't know the whole thing was about him, and she thanked the Powers that he didn't. What she didn't know, was if she should tell him the truth or not. No more lies, her brain screamed. She nodded internally and slowly turned to face him. She whipped her tears forcefully, as if the harder she rubbed, the more it would erase their residue. "Actually," she whispered, looking into his eyes. Her breath was caught in her throat when she saw the bright blue eyes staring into hers, weighing her reaction to every single thing. She knew instantaneously that he could see absolutely everything she had tried to hide.
"Really?" was all he said. He wasn't cocky, or arrogant, or annoying. He wasn't pushy, angry, or heavy. He was quiet, reserved, and curious. She nodded lightly, removing her eyes from his, not being able to take the emotion he showed with them.
"Really."
"Why… why didn't you just come to me? Why come to a shady bar and sing?"
"I… I don't know. Some part of me wished that you would be there to hear it, but part of me wished just saying it, even if it was just in a song, that it would be out of my system and leave me alone. I'm… I'm just… so tired of it. I'm tired of the fighting. I'm tired of pretending. I'm tired of just going through the motions of this life!" A new wave of tears were coming , and she desperately didn't want him to see them, especially since they were over him.
"Shhh," he said, rushing to her side with lightning speed, wrapping his arms around her. She laid her head on his chest, loving how perfect she fit against him. "Don't cry, pet. Don't cry… please." She almost laughed at the irony of it. He was begging her not to cry. All she wanted to hear was that she could be with him again. She didn't even know how to tell him that she missed him. Everything about him.
"I'm sorry," she said, pulling away and wiping her face again. She calmed her breathing, forcing the tears to stop. "Spike… I'm sorry. I'm sorry for pushing you away, for always wanting to fight you, and for lying to you. Spike… I have feelings for you. I'm sorry I was too stubborn to admit it. I felt something when Willow cast that spell, but I wasn't going to admit it. But I'm tired of fighting it, of fighting you. I love you."
He didn't know if it was her words that made him dizzy or the alcohol that had been in his system. Buffy had just admitted something he would have never predicted she would have. He was happier than he would have ever thought imaginable, and yet, all he could think of was that soldier prat. "What about Soldier Boy?"
Buffy almost really laughed at him. "I dumped him two days ago. He wanted to start things where they had left off, but I didn't. I wanted to start over completely. He ended up with another broken nose."
"What did he do?" Spike asked, suddenly in protective mode.
"He didn't get a chance to do anything. He's already left. I told him to go back to South America, and be with Sam."
"So where does that leave us?"
"Where do you want it to be?" she asked cautiously.
"That's my question to you," he insisted.
"Can we start over?"
"We need a beginning to be able to start over, love."
"Can we have a start then?" she asked, suddenly impatient with him.
"Of course," he whispered, stepping extremely close to her. He gently wrapped a hand around her waist, and one around the base of her neck, bringing her to him for a sweet, loving kiss. "That should have been our first kiss," he said as he pulled away and kissed her forehead. "I love you, Buffy."
"I love you, too" she said happily, the strongest feeling she had felt in the longest time.