Buffy
Mom so totally put me next to Spike on purpose. OK, so I don't really hate him anymore, but it's still…awkward.
And we don't even have Dawn sat between us. She wanted the window seat, despite the fact that there's nothing to see out the window; it's too dark. Then again, at least she has something to lean against other than me when she drifts off to sleep.
Spike and I sit in silence. I glance across at the three seats on the other side, where Mom, Giles and Anya are sat. Like Dawn, Mom has a window seat and has fallen asleep. Next to her is Giles, who is in a discussion with Anya about types of demons and their dimensions. Of course Giles would be interested in stuff like that.
In front of them are Willow, Tara and Xander. Tara has the window seat and keeps looking out of it, whenever Willow – who's sat next to her – isn't talking to her. Xander keeps trying to listen to their witchy talk, but he's practically half asleep. The fact that everyone's so tired makes me wish we didn't get a flight so late.
But I know why Mom did it, and I can't really disagree with her.
Next to me Spike shifts, and I look to see him writing in a notebook. He's writing… Is that poetry?
"What'cha got there?" I ask.
He immediately covers the book and tries to hide it. "Nothin'. It's just…"
"A poem?"
"Not mine," he says. "Just one I remember from my youth."
"Can I see?"
He sighs before handing the book to me, and I'm glad when I see that I can understand it unlike a lot of old poems:
Your eyes two will slay me suddenly;
I may the beauty of them not sustain,
So woundeth it throughout my hearte keen.
And but your word will healen hastily
My hearte's wounde, while that it is green,
Your eyes two will slay me suddenly;
I may the beauty of them not sustain.
Upon my truth I say you faithfully
That ye bin of my life and death the queen;
For with my death the truthe shall be seen.
I can't help but wonder if it means anything; why he's writing it now with me sitting next to him… It's the word 'slay' that makes me think that.
"It's pretty," I say.
"Far better than any rot I wrote."
I look at him then with wide eyes. "You wrote poetry?"
He bites his lip and I can see that he's trying to hold his temper. "Bleedin' hell. No one's s'posed to know that. But now the cat's out of the bag… Yeah, Slayer. I was an utter ponce and I wrote sappy poetry to get a lady's attention."
That's…actually pretty cute. Sweet and, dare I say it, adorable. Three words I never thought I'd ever associate with Spike, and I'd doubt he'd appreciate it if I called him any of them. But he looks so worried about what my reaction might be, and I have to say something to encourage him.
"You know girls like men who can be sensitive." OK, so maybe that was the wrong thing to say since 'sensitive' is almost as bad as the other three…
He tilts his head. "Really?"
"Men crying. It's a turn on," I say. "Um… Were you any good?"
He looks away. "Not really. I learnt that the hard way."
I wonder if his attempt at poetry has anything to do with the fact that he's now a vampire.
It's still night when we reach Colorado. I feel cold just looking at the snow outside. I try to forget about the last time I saw snow, and how it was the very thing that stopped Angel from killing himself.
How does that feel like a lifetime ago? Probably because I've grown up since then.
Despite the late hour, there's a mall right next to the airport which is still open. That's where we go to shop for our winter gear and also to do our Christmas shopping, since we never really got a chance back in Sunnydale. Hurry to leave, and all. We probably won't get everything we want this year, but at least we're all together, and in a place which feels more like Christmas than ever before. These guys in Colorado really go all out with the decorations.
Once we're done with the winter gear, we separate for the Christmas shopping part. I find this mystical shop where I buy some witchy charms for Willow and Tara; I assume that Tara is into the same stuff, being from Willow's Wicca group, and all. I buy Anya a pendant from the same store, since I have nothing else to go on. And she used to be a demon, so probably likes this stuff, too.
While buying a new top for Dawn, I spot a little black jacket which would be perfect for slaying. Tight enough so it won't get in my way, a dark colour so stains won't show up, not too thick that it'll be too hot but thick enough that it'll also keep me warm, and best of all, it'll look good on me. But with not much money, I decide to leave it.
The book shop is next, where I get a joke book for Xander – I hope he doesn't think it's a subtle hint that he needs better jokes. I get the new romance novel Mom's been after, and I find a demon-y type book for Giles. I just hope it's not some knock-off with false facts in it – and if it is I can just pass it off as a joke present.
I'm about to walk up to the till when I see something that catches my eye. A book of poetry, pretty nice looking. It also comes with a notebook and pen; 'for inspiration', so it says on the label. It's expensive, but… I think of Spike and his sadness about his poetry on the plane. I pick up the book and add it to my pile of purchases.
Besides, what else can I get him? New hair gel?
On the outside the cabin looks like any traditional cabin would; all made of logs with a chimney obviously attached to an open fire place. But on the inside, it's all very modern and new. And also big; big enough so that every bedroom has a double bed. There's even a large Christmas tree already set up in the corner of the living room.
I love Mom's friend, whoever she is.
We get settled in, and Mom tells us that she and Giles will be taking one of the hired cars out the next day in order to get some shopping and stock up. She also promises to find a local butcher in order to get Spike some blood. He nods but doesn't say anything; he just looks overwhelmed by everything, and I can't blame him. We're all overwhelmed.
But when I find him still awake at one in the morning, I know there's something else to it.
"Spike?" I sit down next to him. "You've got a misty look in your eyes. What's up?"
He looks surprised that I've come to sit with him. Then he turns away and sighs. "It's just… No one's every treated me like this, not even when I was alive. It was just me and my mum and a couple of the servants, but they were paid, and… It's just different, is all."
And welcome back, Guilty Conscience. "I'm sorry-"
"Don't be," he says. "I know why you treated me like you did, and part of me doesn't blame you. I'm a creature you loathe; I tried to kill you. Granted, I think you went a bit too far with the insults, and the chains in the bath tub were a little overkill…"
I laugh. "Yeah, I know. But I am sorry."
"I know." That misty, 'oh-my-god-this-is-really-happening-to-me' look doesn't go away.
I really don't know why I make the decision or even how I arrive at it, but before I know it, I'm taking his hand in mine and leading him to my bedroom. If no one has ever treated him like this before, then the couch is not a good place for him. He deserves to sleep in a bed.
"Slayer…" He figures out what I'm doing when we reach the bedroom and I shut the door. "I don't think this is a good idea…"
"It's fine," I tell him. "It's a big bed, Spike. We can both fit. Besides, Willow and Tara are sharing a bed, and it means nothing to them."
I can see that Spike wants to comment on that, but he decides not to. "I doubt your Watcher would like it, or the Whelp."
"This isn't Xander's bed. It's my bed," I tell him. "And while Giles is the closest thing I have to a father, that doesn't mean he runs my life. Spike, it's completely fine, and nothing has to come from it."
"What if I tell you I snore?"
"You may choose to breathe, Spike, but vampires can't snore."
"You're not gonna take 'no' for an answer, are you?"
"Nope." I climb under the covers and face the opposite wall. "If I hear that door open, I'll be dragging you back in here."
Eventually I feel the other side of the bed dip down, and I smile.
