Awkward
Summary: Set in future of Season 6, post B/S breakup
Author's note: Nope, no mush. Just me, bored and sleepless and at it again
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"So..."
"Yes... So...."
It was rudimentary monosyllabic communication, but at least they were making the effort. Neither Slayer nor vampire had anything better to say, swamped as they were by the awkwardness of their circumstances.
Buffy couldn't really look at Spike because she didn't know what to say. Sorry? Where's that ho-biscuit you brought to Xander's wedding? That shirt looks kind of nice- is that new? Every single tack that she tried seemed to be a potential minefield full of barbs and experiences she'd rather not dwell on.
"Umm... How've you been?" she asked, walking at a slow pace while idly twirling a stake in her hand.
"Been good. And you?" He said in the same clipped and stinted way. They were walking together companionably but they kept a very safe distance of at least six feet between them, knowing fully well the perils that proximity could cause.
"Well, you know... Still the same. Got the job and still slaying." She lifted her stake to illustrate that `yes, she did indeed have a valid reason to be at this particular cemetery so take that evil undead thing and don't look so smug'. "Any particular reason you were out tonight?"
"Went shopping" he said, lifting the brown paper parcel he was carrying that contained blood for his survival illustrating that he did indeed have a valid reason to be out and he wasn't stalking her. Take that, bitch. Trying to make conversation because the silence had become insufferable, he turned to her. "So how's work?"
Thankful for the loads of banal comments she could make about her steady source of income she began her tirade about her job. "Let's just say that the pay doesn't really compensate for the damage done by all that grease and orange polyester. Oh, and there are only so many ways you can make Doublemeat rhyme with superlatives before the people start to look at you strange. Then of course there are the mindless drones who regurgitate the company mottos in lieu of actual conversation..." She kept babbling, just going on and on and the whole time he walked beside her just listening sagaciously until she had finished.
They walked the rest of the way in silence, not really too sure that they could articulate what they felt until finally they came to a place not too far from Spike's crypt.
"Well Slayer, this is where I get off." He said trying to meet her eyes briefly. "Sure you don't need a hand or anything?" He sounded nonchalant and somewhat impersonal, as if they were just casual acquaintances as opposed to... Well, whatever the hell they were now.
She met his gaze briefly then dropped her eyes, attempting to uphold the illusion of mere civility in their conversation. "No, I'm sure I can handle a couple of fledglings. No big deal." She waved a small wave. "Goodnight Spike."
He gave her a brief glance over his shoulder and waved as well. "Goodnight Slayer."
Then he proceeded to walk away, pretending to ignore the way she just stood there looking at him with an expression of confusion and longing on her face.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Buffy stood there for a few minutes, watching the shadows envelop him until she shook herself out of her reverie. She turned to continue her patrol, oblivious to the secrets concealed by the dark, and the pair of eyes that observed her departure, filled with the same yearning as her own.
Summary: Set in future of Season 6, post B/S breakup
Author's note: Nope, no mush. Just me, bored and sleepless and at it again
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"So..."
"Yes... So...."
It was rudimentary monosyllabic communication, but at least they were making the effort. Neither Slayer nor vampire had anything better to say, swamped as they were by the awkwardness of their circumstances.
Buffy couldn't really look at Spike because she didn't know what to say. Sorry? Where's that ho-biscuit you brought to Xander's wedding? That shirt looks kind of nice- is that new? Every single tack that she tried seemed to be a potential minefield full of barbs and experiences she'd rather not dwell on.
"Umm... How've you been?" she asked, walking at a slow pace while idly twirling a stake in her hand.
"Been good. And you?" He said in the same clipped and stinted way. They were walking together companionably but they kept a very safe distance of at least six feet between them, knowing fully well the perils that proximity could cause.
"Well, you know... Still the same. Got the job and still slaying." She lifted her stake to illustrate that `yes, she did indeed have a valid reason to be at this particular cemetery so take that evil undead thing and don't look so smug'. "Any particular reason you were out tonight?"
"Went shopping" he said, lifting the brown paper parcel he was carrying that contained blood for his survival illustrating that he did indeed have a valid reason to be out and he wasn't stalking her. Take that, bitch. Trying to make conversation because the silence had become insufferable, he turned to her. "So how's work?"
Thankful for the loads of banal comments she could make about her steady source of income she began her tirade about her job. "Let's just say that the pay doesn't really compensate for the damage done by all that grease and orange polyester. Oh, and there are only so many ways you can make Doublemeat rhyme with superlatives before the people start to look at you strange. Then of course there are the mindless drones who regurgitate the company mottos in lieu of actual conversation..." She kept babbling, just going on and on and the whole time he walked beside her just listening sagaciously until she had finished.
They walked the rest of the way in silence, not really too sure that they could articulate what they felt until finally they came to a place not too far from Spike's crypt.
"Well Slayer, this is where I get off." He said trying to meet her eyes briefly. "Sure you don't need a hand or anything?" He sounded nonchalant and somewhat impersonal, as if they were just casual acquaintances as opposed to... Well, whatever the hell they were now.
She met his gaze briefly then dropped her eyes, attempting to uphold the illusion of mere civility in their conversation. "No, I'm sure I can handle a couple of fledglings. No big deal." She waved a small wave. "Goodnight Spike."
He gave her a brief glance over his shoulder and waved as well. "Goodnight Slayer."
Then he proceeded to walk away, pretending to ignore the way she just stood there looking at him with an expression of confusion and longing on her face.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Buffy stood there for a few minutes, watching the shadows envelop him until she shook herself out of her reverie. She turned to continue her patrol, oblivious to the secrets concealed by the dark, and the pair of eyes that observed her departure, filled with the same yearning as her own.