Inspiration from Taylor Swift's song "I Almost Do" from her re-released Red Album.
Set 8 months after Chosen. Spike has already been resurrected, and Buffy is in Europe. Goes non canon away from Angel and the comics.
A/N: It's funny that I wrote this on a whim as a one-shot, but I just couldn't stop writing after I thought it would be done. I'm so glad to continue this and would love to hear your thoughts. Thanks for the support!
Disclaimer: I own nothing from the brilliant Buffyverse nor this song.
Chapter 3. A Moth to His Flame
Buffy stirred, blinking owlishly at the alarm clock that rang off on her nightstand. She quickly shut it off and rubbed her eyes.
Fuck.
There was no stopping the feeling of a giant marching band clanging through her head as she groaned loudly.
Then the previous night's events suddenly came flooding back to her in a torrential tidal wave, and her eyes flew wide open.
Spike?! Here! In my apartment?! She frantically looked around both directions beside her on the large bed. Empty. She quickly peered over the edge of the bed to the floor. Empty.
Maybe…it was all a dream.
Sure, keep telling yourself that. She grabbed a pillow and threw it over her face to scream into it.
"Mornin', love."
She jolted up, the momentum of sitting up way too fast causing the room to spin in vertigo and her loudly groaning. Damn those stealthy vampire reflexes.
Spike chuckled as he casually leaned against the doorframe.
"Breakfast and coffee's over at the dining table. And," he motioned towards the direction of her nightstand. "You might need that."
She gingerly lifted the pillow from her face to peer over at the bottle of Advil and glass of water waiting for her.
He gave her a smirk before leaving to give her privacy and a moment to collect herself and her shattered pride all over the bedroom floor.
Fuck me. What the actual fuck.
And here comes Sober Buffy ready to berate her for acting like a total fool last night.
A total horny fool. She groaned again, completely mortified at herself.
She walked into the dining room, teeth brushed, freshly showered, reluctantly dressed and hesitantly ready for work. She could feel the handful of Advil kicking in so she was feeling somewhat better- aside from her severely bruised pride, of course. No fixing that.
Spike was sitting at the dining table, legs propped up on another chair while reading the paper. There was something so endearingly normal seeing him in the dining room like this, inquisitive eyes scanning line by line of the paper as he sipped from his mug. The presence of someone else - especially him - in her home was a foreign feeling…and it felt nice to not be alone for once. Comforting, even. And that scared her.
He looked up as she approached.
"Feeling better?" he leered, a playful grin on his lips.
Buffy sighed heavily. "Somewhat." My pride is pretty wrecked, but no biggie.
He snickered. "So you were quite off your bloody trolley last night."
And there's the elephant in the room. Well, one of the elephants. This whole room was packed full of them.
"I didn't know what I was saying," she huffed, crossing her arms indignantly.
"Uh huh. Well, you know what they say, 'A drunk mind speaks a sober heart'," Spike winked devilishly.
Buffy rolled her eyes and blushed furiously, diverting her gaze away from his teasing grin. Her mental fog from this killer hangover left her at a blank to try to come up with any sort of witty comeback. So withering silence it is. There was no way she was living this down.
Her gaze fell on the huge breakfast spread waiting for her. "Holy shit. What is all this?"
Spike raised an eyebrow. "A full Scottish breakfast. Please tell me you've had this already since you've been livin' here?"
She shook her head slowly as she sat at the table, eyes as wide as saucers as she took it all in.
Plates full of square lorne sausage, link sausages, fried eggs, streaky bacon, baked beans, black pudding, tattie scones, fried tomatoes, mushrooms, and toast surrounded her. It was enough food to feed a whole family.
"Did…you make all this?" she asked, shocked.
Spike chuckled. "Nope. Swung by a café on my way back from the butcher's shop."
That was…incredibly sweet. Sweeter than anything she knew she deserved with how she coldly ghosted him for months. A sharp pang of guilt rang through her as she bit her lip.
"Thank you," she said, smiling softly. "You really didn't have to."
"Anytime, pet," he replied, nodding and turning a page of the paper. "And you really should choose a better hiding spot for your spare key than the bloody doormat."
She shrugged apathetically as he smirked at her. Being the Slayer had its perks, with her Slayer strength as her own home defense system.
Her eyes filled with wonder as she glanced over the vast breakfast spread before her. "This beats Coco Puffs any day."
Spike scoffed sourly. "It's time to appreciate the local culture around here, love. Have a proper breakfast rather than bloody breakfast cereal."
Buffy made a grab for her coffee mug and brought it to her lips. She took a long sip and moaned in contentment, leaning back in her chair. The sound of her moaning made Spike shift slightly in his seat, taking a sip from his mug of warmed blood to distract himself. She sighed, the heat of the fresh coffee warming her like a comforting blanket.
He eyed her as she reached over to pile her plate full of food. Despite the dark circles under her eyes, clearly looking like she barely slept a wink, her sunshine tresses fell beautifully over her petite but muscular shoulders, and her green eyes lit up in excitement over the abundance of breakfast food. Her lips quirked into a wondrous smile.
Bloody hell. How do you manage to still glow like that even while nursing a sodding hangover?
He cleared his throat and set the paper down on the table.
"So, how long have you been livin' here, pet? And you still haven't had a full Scottish breakfast?" he asked, incredulous.
"I haven't really had much time to check out the local scenery all that much," she shrugged, lying. It wasn't a matter of lack of time- she sure had plenty of it to waste.
Being a hermit who has staunchly avoided human interaction aside from the bare minimum at her day job made it difficult to make it all happen. She just wasn't interested. Not a lot interested her nowadays beyond deeply ruminating in one's thoughts and regrets while downing a bottle of Pinot Noir in her living room.
She stabbed at a fried egg and brought it to her mouth. She sighed in contentment as she chewed.
Exactly what she needed to nurse this monstrous hangover. Leave it to Spike to know that.
He shook his head disapprovingly. "That's a shame. Scotland is quite lovely. Lots of castles and local whiskey to try. Scenic, too, the Highlands."
He and Dru had a run of Inverness and Perth back in the day, leaving behind their signature of destruction in their wake. The demon in him looked back fondly at the memories of his former Big Bad life in the 'Fair City'.
"I don't doubt that," Buffy shrugged, biting into a piece of toast. "I just don't have a reason or anyone to go out with."
If his undead heart could beat, it would have raced. Receiving confirmation that no one has captured the interest of the Slayer peaked his interest, despite his best efforts convincing himself he did not care.
"Well…" he drawled with a smirk. "How about let's change that?"
She quirked an eyebrow, chewing on a fried tomato. "Huh?"
"How about let's go out tonight, once you get back from work? Check out a distillery or two, then hit the pub?" he quipped, sipping from his mug.
Now that her mental fog was marginally cleared thanks to the antidote of caffeine and Advil flowing through her veins, words and more coherent thoughts were forming in her mind. And his question began to actually register.
Is he…asking me out on a date?
Buffy tried not to gape at him with her mouth full of bacon and tattie scones. She swallowed hard.
Out of all scenarios to play out in her mind the morning after such an embarrassing night, she certainly was not expecting this.
A large part of her screamed at her to say 'No!', to run far away from him. To keep running and not stop. The need for self preservation to shield herself from the inevitable goodbye she feared was roaring strong, pulling her in one direction, while the longing to not feel so alone fiercely yanked her the other way.
The awkward silence that followed his question lingered in the air as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, waiting.
She slowly found herself nodding.
"Uh, sure," she smiled weakly. "Let's do that."
Oh god, what am I doing?! She could feel the fear center of her brain exploding. But as she stared into his piercing blue eyes, which held an emotion she couldn't quite pinpoint, something in her gut told her that it was going to be okay. And a small part of her felt…excitement? There wasn't a lot that excited her nowadays and it felt strange to her.
Buffy pushed back her chair and stood up, taking her empty plate to the sink. She needed to do something with her hands as a distraction from her fretting mind and fluttering heart.
Spike did his best to force a casual smile. "Great," he nodded in agreement.
He was absolutely speechless. His very forward move could have easily gone tits-up, and this was quite a hell of a gamble he took. The PTB must be feeling generous doling out such good fortune his way.
Soon Buffy began to clear the table, starting to cover the plates of leftovers to store in the fridge. Spike stood up to offer help but she immediately shook her head to decline.
"Thanks again for breakfast. I really appreciate it." She smiled. "And thank you for sticking around."
He shrugged. "Of course, love. What sort of house guest would I be to just up and leave you without sayin' at least a goodbye?"
She stiffened at the word. She hated goodbyes, that much was quite clear.
Noticing the sudden shift in her mood, Spike looked away. He wasn't sure what to say at this point or how to interpret this mood change. Is this my cue to go now?
He cleared his throat. "Look, I'm sorry I intruded in on you like this, suddenly showin' up at your doorstep out of the blue. I shoulda planned this out more and stayed at an inn. I'll go and look for one near-"
"No!"
He gaped at her, startled. She also seemed to startle herself with her sudden outburst.
"Sorry, I meant...stay," Buffy bit her lip. She couldn't believe she was actually saying this, despite everything in her screaming that this was a terrible idea. It was like she was outside of her own body and her mouth had a mind of its own. Similar to last night but this time there was no alcohol in her system to blame.
She continued, her voice sounding small. "Stay here with me? Unless you really don't want to."
A strange feeling of deja vu rushed through her as she said those words. A memory lingered, as she remembered telling him back in Sunnydale what felt like a lifetime ago 'Because I'm not ready for you to not be here.' And she knew that sentiment still rang true despite her mixed efforts of keeping him at a distance.
Spike blinked at her. This certainly was not what he was expecting. The PTB must be on a roll here, cheering from the bloody rafters.
"I mean…if you insist," he winked, trying to save face when in reality his mind swam in utter confusion.
He bit down on the many questions that he had been struggling to ask ever since he first laid eyes on her last night.
You want me to stay here with you? Despite everything? He desperately wanted to ask her why, why after all this time she still wanted him around when her prior actions told him otherwise. After months of ignoring his calls, now she wanted him to stay here with her in her home? Her actions didn't make a lick of sense to him. But the way she was looking at him, the unmistakable vulnerability in her eyes as she asked, told him she needed him here. His own pride be damned.
There's a time and a place to ask for answers…but that time isn't right now.
"There's a guest bedroom you can stay in. First door to the right." Buffy said as she pointed down the hallway.
"We do have to share a bathroom. Fresh towels are in the bathroom cabinet. And feel free to help yourself to the liquor cabinet and wine rack," she added.
His breath caught in his throat. His room was right next to hers. A single wall separating them.
If his undead heart could do somersaults, it would be leaping straight out of his chest. The thought of being in such close proximity to her under the same roof brought so many conflicting feelings to mind- confusion, wonder, concern, fear…and hope?
"I promise not to leave wet towels on the floor," Spike tried to joke lightly. His past stay with Xander brought back memories of his bad roommate habits and he smirked. "I'll be on my best behavior during my stay, pet."
With her overwhelmed mind still reeling from the impulsivity of this morning's decisions, Buffy feebly smiled at him and silently nodded in response. She had to get out of here soon before she changed her mind.
Clearing her throat, she took a quick look at the kitchen wall clock. "Well, I should be headed out to work now."
She headed to the living room and grabbed her shoulder bag that was tossed on the floor from last night.
"So what do you have planned today?" She asked as she reached over the couch and pocketed her phone.
"Work." He took a sip from his mug, averting his gaze back to the paper.
She turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "Work…?"
"Here on business," he shrugged. "A work trip."
Interesting. Buffy knew that Spike had been working with Angel ever since his return to the living. As awkward as the thought was of her two exes working together, she understood this was his new life. It wasn't any of her business to pry into this life he made for himself back in Los Angeles, a new life she wasn't a part of anymore- which she made her choice clear by ignoring his calls. She wondered for a moment if there was someone back home waiting for him.
Maybe that's why he rejected my advances last night…but why else would he ask me on a date? Unless it's actually not a date to him…or he's keeping it 'casual' back at home.
Buffy could feel her green eyed monster glowering at the thought of him with someone else.
She shook her head at herself. You have no right. This is his new life and you made the choice to not be a part of it.
She held herself back from prying into specifics- she wasn't sure if she wanted to know.
"So you just happened to be passing through my neck of the woods?"
"Yeah. But I'm here to stay as long as you'll have me," he replied, winking.
Buffy blinked at him. "Doesn't that defeat the purpose of a work trip? You know, you're usually supposed to make a return."
Spike shrugged. "I can take as long as I want on this one. Again, as long as you'll have me."
In that case, please stay…don't go. She paused at the doorway and bit her lip.
"I see," she nodded weakly. "Well, I'm glad you're here, Spike."
He smiled softly. "I am, too, love. Thanks for letting me stay."
She felt like she was floating on air as she bounded down the sidewalk to the academy base. Her mind spun and heart raced at the thought of coming back home to him and their impending date tonight.
But wait…is it a date to him? She frowned.
It has to be - right?
Sighing, she shook her head at herself. Whatever this was to him, she knew at the root of it all she was excited about something for the first time in a long while.
So many lines had been crossed in a span of less than twenty four hours that it was difficult to process it all. And him staying with her was a hard line that couldn't be uncrossed. She opened the door to her life again and invited him back in. She feared this happening, which is why she avoided his calls for so long - that she couldn't resist him. It was like she is a moth to his flame, an invisible force pulling her to him despite her weakening efforts trying to stay away.
Was she ready for this?
Was this really what she wanted?
She was too distracted with the whirlwind of her own thoughts to notice a figure hiding in the shadows, watching her.