Buffy hands Spike a damp towel and he wipes the blood off his face and neck. His gums have stopped bleeding but they look raw and bruised.
"Are you alright?"
He nods stiffly, wincing a little.
"Bloody fantastic."
"What the hell was that?"
"Wish I could tell you," he runs a finger across the top of his gums, feeling the lacerations over his canines, "me, myself and I have always gotten on swimmingly up until now."
Buffy's eyes widen. Oh.
"It was you?"
"Mm... what made me. But he usually sits nice and quiet until it's time to play," he smirks sourly, but Buffy looks horrified.
Ah, wrong crowd.
He touches the bites on his neck tentatively. From the feel of them they're wide and deep. There's an ache running from them around his neck.
"What did it want?"
He shrugs.
"No idea, whatever it was saying makes as much sense to me as you." He catches her eye and sees her confusion, "Oh... I guess that was just for me then."
"What did it say?"
"Just nonsense." She tightens her jaw and he can tell she won't be fobbed off.
"...He said I tried to cast him out."
"What does that mean?"
"I've no bleedin' idea."
They sit in silence for a little while, each eyeing the other. He sighs.
"I should go."
"What?"
"I don't think I should be here while-"
"No."
He blinks, "no?"
"Whatever that thing was we need to keep an eye on it. I'll talk to Giles tomorrow."
He winces.
"I would rather not give your little gang a new reason to stake me, Slayer."
"They wouldn't-"
"They would."
They face each other down.
Buffy breaks first.
"Fine. Not Giles," she bites a lip, "what about Tara?"
He raises an eyebrow, "preferable. Not choosing your pet witch?"
"We might need magic."
"And she's off the juice." He nods, rolling his tongue across his gums.
"Spike..." she trails off, biting her tongue.
"What?"
She shakes her head.
"You've been on the edge of saying something all night. Spit it out."
She meets his eyes then, and takes a breath.
"Do you... think this could have something to do with William?"
Well. Wasn't expecting that.
"William's dead, Buffy. I don't see how he could have anything to do with it."
She nods, biting her lip.
I don't think he's as dead as you think.
He tenses.
"What is it you're not saying?"
She swallows hard, meeting his hard eyes. Takes a breath.
"…I saw him."
"Who?"
"I saw William."
He's quiet for a long time.
"When?"
"Downstairs. When we were..." He nods, and she leaves the rest unsaid, "and earlier. Just before."
He takes a long breath in.
"Did you… when you said you loved me. Did you say it to-"
She opens her mouth to reply but he holds up a hand to stop her.
"No. Actually, don't tell me."
He rests his arms across his knees. His hands are balled so tightly into fists his rings look like they'll cut through his skin.
"What is this to you? This thing we have?"
Buffy flinches.
"I don't know," she shifts on the bed, facing him, "it's not really something I can put into words."
His stare cuts through her.
"Try."
She's silent for a while, staring down at her hands in her lap.
"It's so hard," it's little more than a whisper, "it's all so hard. Being back. It's agony… all the time. I was dead and I was so-" she chokes back a sob, "…I was so happy. It never used to be so difficult, it was just something I carried everyday. This crushing, soul-sucking weight on top of me. And then it was lifted off me all at once. It felt like being free… for the first time," tears start rolling down her cheeks, "and then… now… I might never feel that again. If that was my only chance- What if I never.. what if…" she's crying hard, trying to say the words around the tears, "I think I came back wrong. I came back wrong. I must… still be dead in someway. Like I'm lost in the dark, and no one else can see it. I have to be who I was before. What I was… I'm supposed to be- I'm supposed to be grateful. But I hate it. And the only thing I can feel is hate, and anger, and pain. And when I don't feel that it's just… nothing. Just an endless aching nothing. The only time I ever feel anything is when-… when-," she swallows hard and looks him in the eyes, "with you."
He uncurls a fist and reaches for her hand, but she pulls back.
"Don't. Don't be... I don't think I could bear it."
He sighs.
Girl can't stand being vulnerable. He runs a tongue over his gums again. The cuts are nearly closed now. Hmm… needn't be an issue then.
He gets up from the bed, finds his jeans and pulls them on, buckling the belt.
"Get dressed."
She looks up at him, confused, but doesn't question him. She finds a pair of leggings and a t-shirt and pulls them on.
He opens the bedroom door and beckons her to follow him. In bare feet they descend the stairs. He takes her hand and leads her into the kitchen, opening the door to the basement.
She raises an eyebrow, and he flips on the light, pulling her down the stairs with him. She walks passed him and he shuts the basement door, sealing them in.