Author Note: Missing Scene from Season Six Episode 'Tabula Rasa' - filling in the blanks between Buffy turning away from Spike in the Bronze, and them ending up kissing mere minutes later.


Where We Go From Here

He approached her, with an open, questioning look on his face. Without a word the vampire before her was begging for a small chunk of her company, and she almost couldn't bear it. His emotions ran too close to the surface, and they tempted her own to follow suit, which ultimately caused her to retreat in fear.

She turned away, but regretted it instantly. Even with her back to him she could feel his hurt and rejection in waves, and the Slayer was overwhelmed with an urgency to stop him in his retreat back to the shadows.

"Wait!" she called out, without turning to face him again. Buffy couldn't allow herself to see him – to look in his eyes – as she asked of him what no one else was willing or able to grant her. Choking back a sob she threw out the words: "Please don't leave me."

If he was really the evil creature she kept insisting him to be, yet knew full well he wasn't, Spike would have pounced on her insecurity in that moment, calling her out on her mood swings and mixed signals. But, of course, he didn't.

Glancing down at her empty glass he ordered her another and, when he passed it over, she took hold of his hand and finally looked in his eyes again. Her own were full of unshed tears.

Not dropping her hand – but letting it hang loose, so she had full control of when their palms broke contact – he sat down on the stool beside her. Neither said a word for some time, but eventually the Slayer did let go of him and begin to sip her drink.

Even his presence made her feel better, and she felt wrong for that realization. Wrong, but also thankful, and curious. There was definite curiosity – to see how well he really could help take her mind off things. And, with that thought, Buffy's self loathing came full circle, and she concluded she didn't deserve Spike, or his attentions. There was no way she was going to tell him that, though.

"Want a third?" Spike asked her, shaking her out of her reverie enough to notice her glass was empty again.

"No," she replied. "I should… Let's go."

"Let's-?" he began to repeat in confusion. Was she asking him to go with her? No, he thought, that couldn't be right. But she was tugging at his hand again, and he couldn't help but follow. Ever the eager puppy, he cursed himself for being so willing to please, when all he ever got was kicked for it. Spike knew full well that whatever openness Buffy treated him to that night he'd have to sorely pay for the next day, but like a moth to a deadly flame, he only drew closer.

Before he knew it she'd stopped under the staircase and was stood there, with her back to the supporting pillar, looking at him. There was no question what she wanted, in that moment, and he leaned in to deliver the kiss, but left the final inch of air separating their mouths for her to cross, as he'd done, outside, the previous week. She closed the gap, and closed her eyes. Drank him in, and got lost in the experience.

It could have lasted for a minute, or an hour, she wasn't sure, but at some point during their heated embrace Buffy realized it would have to end at some point, and the knowledge made her furious. She kissed harder, and more urgently, and Spike met her lips with equal fervor and intensity, like she knew he would. Of everything in her crazy world, he was the only thing she was sure of. And there was the truth of it, again, hitting her in the face. She didn't deserve him. And, so, she pushed him away, and left without a word or a backward glance.