Disclaimer, Summary, ect.: See chap 1.
Author's Notes, Tigerwolf: This entire chapter was written as a two hour long IMIC (Instant Messanger In Character) conversation between Sunrise and me. It was so fun to write, that I decided to make it a chapter all to itself. Besides, it was too long to add to another part =).
Title: The Heart Of The Matter -- Chapter 3 Actors/Authors: Just Tigerwolf as Spike, and Tequila Sunrise as Buffy.
I've been trying to get down, To the heart of the matter, But the flesh is so weak, And the ashes all scatter, But I think it's about, Forgiveness, forgivness, Even if, even if, You don't love me anymore
Three days had passed since that first break through, and things were looking up for everyone. Willow had begun coming out of her room more, and had actually began talking to people again. Spike had moved back into his crypt, much to Clem's annoyance. And life was returning to normal in Sunnydale.
Spike was sitting in his armchair, watching a rerun of the Passions marathon, when there came a knock at the door. Confused, because the majority of his visitors never knocked, Spike stared at the door for a moment.
Meanwhile, outside, Buffy fidgeted nervously, unsure of why she had knocked- but she had, and it was done.
She sighed. Stupid Buffy.
"Uh, come in?", Spike said, still a little wary of the novelty of someone actually knocking.
Walking very lightly, Buffy entered the crypt. "Hi," she said slowly, knowing it showed that she felt foolish.
Spike relaxed upon seeing the blonde Slayer. "Hi," he replied, rising to his feet. "Do you need me for something?" He hadn't meant it to come out sounding suggestive, but it did. He quickly backpedaled. "Um, I mean, with a fight, or something like that." If vampires could blush, he would have resembled a beet.
Buffy, however, was susceptible to that kind of travesty, and did indeed blush. "No... I... Eh... Um..." For some reason, 'I was just checking on you' wouldn't come out."I wanted to say thanks." She fidgeted for a moment. "For... Ya know... Willow. Dawn. Thank you." She nodded, reinforcing her words.
"Oh, you're.. uh, you're welcome, Sl-.. Buffy," Spike replied. The decision to use her actual name had to be conciously made. It was a show of respect.
She nodded, again. "Oh yeah. Totally welcome." She made a confused face at her own words. "Oh my God. Did I just say that?" Buffy placed the heel of her hand on her forehead. Winced. "I did."
Spike was trying, unsucessfully, not to laugh. Not nessisarily at Buffy, but at both of them, behaving like love-struck teenagers.Finally, he couldn't hold it in any longer, and began laughing so hard that he had to grab the stone wall of the crypt to keep from tipping over.
Buffy listened, for the first time hearing Spike laugh with abandon. Not.... a smirking laugh, which he did exquisitely well... Just... a laugh. And God, was it sexy. And contagious. So very contagious. She started laughing, too. Softly at first, then harder, she just started cracking up, one hand on her ribs, recently injured, and she sucked in breaths, still not even trying to restrain herself.
After a moment, both Spike and Buffy found themselves collapsed on the couch, leaning against each other for support, and still laughing.
Buffy wiped at her eyes, chuckled one last time. "Well..."
"Yeah," Spike said, rubbing his aching ribs. "Well.."
Leaning forward, to put her elbows on her knees, Buffy jerked in a quick breath, then leaned back again, remembering the bruising. Make it casual. She leaned against the arm of the couch.
Spike noticed the Slayers jerky action, and correctly diagnosed it as a response to pain. "You hurt?"
She shook her head negatively. "No. Just... " She arched her back a bit. "Ya know, thought this was a more comfy position, and all." Smiled and blinked innocently.
Spike wasn't fooled for a moment. "Yeah, and I just love taking naps hanging from a coat hanger in my closet.That way, my duster doesn't get lonely."
Her lips quirked, but only momentarily. She schooled them into a controlled, well-deserved smirk. "I kinda got hit."
Spike barely controlled a growl. "Three things. What was it, where was it, and can I kill it?"
Buffy grinned ruefully. "A person, a barfight, and does your soul allow it?"
Spike smirked. "Just tell me you have the bloody wanker's address, and we'll test that last one."
She laid her head on his shoulder for a minute, smiled, then sat back up. "He might have gone to jail for the night. I dunno."
For the instant that Buffy leaned her head on him, Spike had felt like Jello. Damn, he loved that woman. "Well, when he gets out, he'll have a royally pissed off vampire to answer to."
Buffy smiled again. Why had this been so hard before?? "Don't worry about it."
Spike looked at her, love shining in his blue eyes. "I can't help it, luv. When it concerns you, I always worry."
"Thank you." Her eyes downcast, she was suddenly nervous, so she did what she always does when her nerves get the best of her. She started chattering. "But it's really not that bad anymore. Ya know, slayer healing, all that." She grinned emptily, patted her ribs very, very gently. "See?"
Spike, once again, wasn't fooled. "Slayer healing or not, would you like something for the pain? I think I've got some ibuprophen, or somethin' like it, anyway."
She grimaced. "Would it make me a total fake?"
Spike smiled. Not his usual smirk, but an actual smile. "Not if we don't tell anyone else."
Buffy allowed herself a small, pleading smile. "Please? Three or four?"
Spike chuckled. "At least. I once took six, after what that Hell Bitch did to me."
A cloud immediately fell over Buffy's countenance. Shamed, she looked at her hands, folded in her lap. "I'm sorry, Spike."
Spike looked at her, confused. "Sorry? For what?" He stood up and headed for a cabinet that had recently been installed on the wall.
"I... I should have stayed... tended you. After what you did.... and all I did..." She sounded awed over her rudeness. "I yelled at you." She giggled quietly. "My mom would have whooped my ass for that one." She sobered again. "And I yelled at you."
Spike glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the young woman on the couch. "Ancient history, luv. Besides, I don't blame you. I deserved it."
She tilted her head, considering. "Yeah, well, the bot was... uber-creepy." She looked him in the eye. "That doesn't mean that I was excused."
Spike chuckled as he pulled a bottle from the cabinet and returned to the couch, settling beside her. "Let's just say we're even, ok?" He chuckled again. "And you're right about your mum. She liked me." Unbidden, the tears came out of nowhere, spilling over Spike's cheeks. "I loved her..." He sniffed. "I.. didn't even get to go to the funeral. No one even told me untill it was all over..."
Buffy's eyes welled, and she let the tears go. "I'm sorry, Spike... I didn't even... I didn't think... beyond Dawn... I didn't think... I thought one of the others...." She brought one hand to her throat. Jerked a bit. Reaching around her neck, she unclasped her necklace.
Spike looked at the jewelry through tear-filled eyes. "What's that?"
She took one charm off, and turned Spike's hand over, placing it in his palm. "She would-" Tears streamed as she wiped away one of his own. "She would want it for you."
Spike looked down at the guardian angel charm in his hand, then back at the crying girl in front of him. Without a word, he held his arms out, motioning for her to hug him, letting her know it was okay. She moved into his arms slowly, settled her head against his shirt. She mouthed words against his chest. Then she lifted her head, said it again. "Mommy... My mom... She loved you, too." She glanced at the charm in his hand. "She... she said you were like a guardian angel. I didn't believe her..." She looked into his eyes. "But I do now."
Spike wrapped his arms around the Slayer, holding her tightly, and he looked down at the charm that was still in his palm. He used a finger to turn it over, reading the inscription on the back. "In life, there is no greater joy, than the love of your family". Spike sniffed, trying to stop the tears. "Did she... did she actually say that she loved me?"
Buffy looked in his eyes. "She didn't have to." She laughed tearily. "God, she didn't have to. I'd come home, and this huge grin would be lighting up her face. 'That lovely young man was over,' she'd tell me. 'We had cocoa.'"
Spike chuckled. " 'Lovely young man', am I? Well, she was wrong about the "young" part..." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "But I did love her cocoa. Little marshmallows and everything."
She chuckled. "She knew. I ranted about her inviting you in, over and over. But she just smiled. 'He'd never hurt us, Buffy. And he reads Byron.' Anyone who read Byron.. I'm surprised my mom didn't kiss you." She looked at her hands soberly. "I never made her smile like that..."
Spike gave Buffy an incredulous look. "Never made her smile?! What do you think she talked to me about every time I was over? After everything she told me about you, what a wonderful young woman you were becoming, how beautiful and smart you are, it's no bloody wonder that I fell in love with you, Slayer." Buffy's eyes were alight with tears and hope. "M-Mommy said that about me?"
"That and a whole bunch of other stuff. She was so proud of you, Buffy.." Spike's eyes got a distant look. "I wish my parents had been that proud of me," he said quietly.
Unthinking, she ran a hand down his cheek, cupped it. "They loved you. How could they not?"
Spike leaned into Buffy's touch, momentarily closing his eyes. "I didn't say that they didn't love me, I said that they weren't proud of me. I never did anything to deserve it. Hell, my grandfather was a poet, published and everything, and I couldn't even write anything that wasn't bloody..." He trailed off, remembering that Buffy hadn't known about his "Bloody Awful Poet" days. "Not that I ever wrote poetry, mind you. It was just an expression..."
She wrinkled her brow. "No lies, Spike. So you couldn't write poetry?" She got a bit outraged. "So! Um.. let's stamp 'condemned' on William?" She placed her hand over his, squeezed it. "That's not fair."
Spike tried to hide a sob with a chuckle. "Tell me about it. And now look at me. I've gone right back to my old nickname."
Her other hand snaked up, ran it over the hair on the back of his head. "Spike-... I don't... I thought you got William the Bloody after you were turned..."
He leaned back against her hand. "Nope. I just shortened it. Do you want to know what it was?" She nodded, realizing it was his turn to talk, to hurt.
He gave her a sheepish look. "William the Bloody Awful Poet."
She blinked. Wrinkled her brow, and blinked again. "Are you-" She swallowed. "Oh my."
Spike just looked at her, waiting for the inevitable laugh. The same way Cecily had laughed all those years ago. But she suprised him.
"You... Yeah..." She looked at his eyes. "Why can I see that?" Now it was Spike's turn to blink. She smiled softly. Swiped his hair out of his eyes. "Bent over a notebook, trying to find the right word."
He swallowed. Time to take a chance. "Effulgent." Before she could respond, he continued. "It means something beautiful, or radiant... Like you." He glanced away, embarrassed.
A shy smile curved her lips. She tested it, rolled it around in her mouth. "Effulgent... It's... so... I don't know.. It..." She looked down. "Don't make fun of me."
He grinned. "If you won't make fun of me for starting this conversation."
"I'm not.. good, and smart, with... ya know.. big words.But... When you said it... I thought of a sunrise. Bright. It's so descriptive. I wish I could-"
Spike grinned so big, it looked like his face would split in half. "Slayer, you have just made me about as happy as I have ever been. And now I can't find the right word." He looked at her, almost shyly. "Would you... would you like to see something? Something I wrote?"
She smiled. "Yes."
He scrambled up, looking rather like a young boy headed for presents on his birthday. He trotted over and pushed the lid off of one of the sarcophogus' that was laying around, and pulled out a leather bound book. It looked at least as old as... well... Spike.
"Here they are," he said. "Personally, I think I've gotten much better lately." He opened the book to a page, that appeared to have tear stains on it. "I wrote this after... after you came back..." She gingerly accepted the old book, and began to read...
Someday
My love has followed me back home To my lonely room and bed, For many a long year I've roamed, Longing that my heart be fed.
When I saw you standing there, Lost within your mind, I knew that never had I seen, Nor could I hope to find, A love more wonderful than yours, Though I know that you aren't mine.
And through those lonely days and months, I could hardly even bear, I would have killed myself, 'Cept for the Lil' Bit who cared, We comforted eachother, Stopping each other's tears, Always hoping to turn around, And see you standing there.
Now you're finally home to stay, You'll never leave again, I pray, Still I wait and hope you'll say, "I love you, Spike", Someday, someday.
--William (aka Spike)
Reading over it, she pulled in a deep breath now and again. And at the end, she lost control, and let a few of her own tears stain the page, mingle with his.
Spike was wringing his hands nervously. "Do you.. did you like it?"
She raised her eyes to his. Her bottom lip trembled, and she forced it to stop. "It's beautiful." She frowned. "How dare they not appreciate you! I mean... I don't... I don't know a lot... But this... it's beautiful, and good."
Spike felt like jumping in the air, turning a summersault, something, anything to let his emotions show. He was trembling with excitement. "I told you that I've gotten better."
She snorted derisively. "Show them bloody awful... give them one of MY journals."
Spike started laughing again, and he flopped on the couch next to her. "I'm sure, whatever you write, is as good as my crap."
She rolled her eyes. "Angel, is an angel," she started, melodramatically. This caused Spike to laugh even harder, rolling onto his back, nearly falling off the couch.
She swatted at him self-righteously. "Knock it off!"
He gave her a playfully evil look. "I've got a better idea, why don't you join me!" He jumped to his feet and pounced her. Almost immediatly, he began tickling the Slayer's ribs.
She prepared to wince in pain, but his fingers were too gentle for that. With a squeal, she started giggling, squirming. As she squirmed, her shirt rode up, revealing the purple angry bruises.
Spike stopped instantly. "God, luv. Why didn't you tell me it was that bad." He sat back and smacked himself on the forehead. "And I never gave you the damn pills."
She looked down, instantly shamed. "It's... it's not as bad as it looks..." She tucked stray peices of hair behind her ear. "It was just... an... an accident..."
"Accident or not, I should have given you the pills." He glanced around. "Now, where did the bloody bottle get to?" He turned around, searching through the couch cushions. His butt was sticking up in the air, and he practicly had his head in between the cushions. "Where did it go!?"
She giggled, pleased to the Powers he had never asked the specifics of her 'accident'. "Do you have water?"
Spike turned, so that he was looking at her, upside down. "Huh? Oh, yeah. There's bottled water in the fridge.. And some other stuff. If you see something you want, help yourself."
She nodded, winced as she stood, and made her way to the fridge. Peeking inside, she grinned. Grabbing a water, and an apple, she said, "Want anything?"
Still upside down, but now because he was laying on the couch, holding the errant bottle. "Uh, are there any of the spicy hot wings left? They were in a big bucket."
Swinging the door open, she pulled the bucket out. "Cold??"
"Hell no. There's a microwave over by the cabinet. And see if there's any ranch sauce." He was struggleing with the bottle cap. "Damn "child-proof" thing."
Tossing the whole bucket in the microwave, and pushing a few buttons with vast hope, she walked to the couch, took the bottle out of his fumbling hands. God, he was so cute. So frustrated looking. She twisted simply, with the ease of experience, and handed the bottle back to him and returned to the "kitchen" to root through the fridge for the ranch sauce. "I assume by sauce, you mean dressing?"
"Uh, yeah, something like that." He watched her retrive the sauce and walk back toward him. Unexpectedly, he yawned, vamping out for an instant, a reflex that not all vampires had. Spike, unfortunately, didn't even realize he'd done it.
She grinned, holding the 'sauce' like a trophy, and went to hand it to him. His vamped features jolted her for a moment.
Spike noticed her simi-shocked look, realized what had happened, then quickly shook his head, returning to normal. "Sorry, 'bout that, luv," he muttered, ashamed.
She calmed her heart beat, knowing he could read it easily as a book. She grinned, shook her head. "S'ok. Don't ever check in on me when I'm cramping. I assume that's what I look like. I mean.. that's how I act. Uber- quick change to Bitchy-Buffy!" She knew she was chattering. Worse. She was babbling. God bless the microwave for beeping. She turned to retrieve his wings.
Spike grinned. "I doubt that it's quite that bad, luv."
She returned with his bucket o' wings, and snorted. "Ha. Try me." She flopped on the couch beside him. "So... Are we gonna share the pain pills with Buffy??" He dumped a few of the pills out into his palm. "This enough?"
She squinted. "Onnnnne more."
He grinned, and dumped another pill into his hand. "How about now?", he asked, handing her the pills.
She grinned, tossed the pills back, and took a few swallows of water. "So..." She snagged one of his buffalo wings and dipped it in ranch. "What's up with this Passions show?"
TBC.....
Ok, folks! This is Tequila Sunrise! How are you? How do you think we're doing? LET US KNOW! We have about... 24 parts now, but we're just putting them up two a day till we get caught up. We really hope you guys are liking this. It's our baby. Read our other stuff, too!!! lol shameless plugging... *sigh* I have no shame. Sorry.
Always. Tequila Sunrise
Author's Notes, Tigerwolf: This entire chapter was written as a two hour long IMIC (Instant Messanger In Character) conversation between Sunrise and me. It was so fun to write, that I decided to make it a chapter all to itself. Besides, it was too long to add to another part =).
Title: The Heart Of The Matter -- Chapter 3 Actors/Authors: Just Tigerwolf as Spike, and Tequila Sunrise as Buffy.
I've been trying to get down, To the heart of the matter, But the flesh is so weak, And the ashes all scatter, But I think it's about, Forgiveness, forgivness, Even if, even if, You don't love me anymore
Three days had passed since that first break through, and things were looking up for everyone. Willow had begun coming out of her room more, and had actually began talking to people again. Spike had moved back into his crypt, much to Clem's annoyance. And life was returning to normal in Sunnydale.
Spike was sitting in his armchair, watching a rerun of the Passions marathon, when there came a knock at the door. Confused, because the majority of his visitors never knocked, Spike stared at the door for a moment.
Meanwhile, outside, Buffy fidgeted nervously, unsure of why she had knocked- but she had, and it was done.
She sighed. Stupid Buffy.
"Uh, come in?", Spike said, still a little wary of the novelty of someone actually knocking.
Walking very lightly, Buffy entered the crypt. "Hi," she said slowly, knowing it showed that she felt foolish.
Spike relaxed upon seeing the blonde Slayer. "Hi," he replied, rising to his feet. "Do you need me for something?" He hadn't meant it to come out sounding suggestive, but it did. He quickly backpedaled. "Um, I mean, with a fight, or something like that." If vampires could blush, he would have resembled a beet.
Buffy, however, was susceptible to that kind of travesty, and did indeed blush. "No... I... Eh... Um..." For some reason, 'I was just checking on you' wouldn't come out."I wanted to say thanks." She fidgeted for a moment. "For... Ya know... Willow. Dawn. Thank you." She nodded, reinforcing her words.
"Oh, you're.. uh, you're welcome, Sl-.. Buffy," Spike replied. The decision to use her actual name had to be conciously made. It was a show of respect.
She nodded, again. "Oh yeah. Totally welcome." She made a confused face at her own words. "Oh my God. Did I just say that?" Buffy placed the heel of her hand on her forehead. Winced. "I did."
Spike was trying, unsucessfully, not to laugh. Not nessisarily at Buffy, but at both of them, behaving like love-struck teenagers.Finally, he couldn't hold it in any longer, and began laughing so hard that he had to grab the stone wall of the crypt to keep from tipping over.
Buffy listened, for the first time hearing Spike laugh with abandon. Not.... a smirking laugh, which he did exquisitely well... Just... a laugh. And God, was it sexy. And contagious. So very contagious. She started laughing, too. Softly at first, then harder, she just started cracking up, one hand on her ribs, recently injured, and she sucked in breaths, still not even trying to restrain herself.
After a moment, both Spike and Buffy found themselves collapsed on the couch, leaning against each other for support, and still laughing.
Buffy wiped at her eyes, chuckled one last time. "Well..."
"Yeah," Spike said, rubbing his aching ribs. "Well.."
Leaning forward, to put her elbows on her knees, Buffy jerked in a quick breath, then leaned back again, remembering the bruising. Make it casual. She leaned against the arm of the couch.
Spike noticed the Slayers jerky action, and correctly diagnosed it as a response to pain. "You hurt?"
She shook her head negatively. "No. Just... " She arched her back a bit. "Ya know, thought this was a more comfy position, and all." Smiled and blinked innocently.
Spike wasn't fooled for a moment. "Yeah, and I just love taking naps hanging from a coat hanger in my closet.That way, my duster doesn't get lonely."
Her lips quirked, but only momentarily. She schooled them into a controlled, well-deserved smirk. "I kinda got hit."
Spike barely controlled a growl. "Three things. What was it, where was it, and can I kill it?"
Buffy grinned ruefully. "A person, a barfight, and does your soul allow it?"
Spike smirked. "Just tell me you have the bloody wanker's address, and we'll test that last one."
She laid her head on his shoulder for a minute, smiled, then sat back up. "He might have gone to jail for the night. I dunno."
For the instant that Buffy leaned her head on him, Spike had felt like Jello. Damn, he loved that woman. "Well, when he gets out, he'll have a royally pissed off vampire to answer to."
Buffy smiled again. Why had this been so hard before?? "Don't worry about it."
Spike looked at her, love shining in his blue eyes. "I can't help it, luv. When it concerns you, I always worry."
"Thank you." Her eyes downcast, she was suddenly nervous, so she did what she always does when her nerves get the best of her. She started chattering. "But it's really not that bad anymore. Ya know, slayer healing, all that." She grinned emptily, patted her ribs very, very gently. "See?"
Spike, once again, wasn't fooled. "Slayer healing or not, would you like something for the pain? I think I've got some ibuprophen, or somethin' like it, anyway."
She grimaced. "Would it make me a total fake?"
Spike smiled. Not his usual smirk, but an actual smile. "Not if we don't tell anyone else."
Buffy allowed herself a small, pleading smile. "Please? Three or four?"
Spike chuckled. "At least. I once took six, after what that Hell Bitch did to me."
A cloud immediately fell over Buffy's countenance. Shamed, she looked at her hands, folded in her lap. "I'm sorry, Spike."
Spike looked at her, confused. "Sorry? For what?" He stood up and headed for a cabinet that had recently been installed on the wall.
"I... I should have stayed... tended you. After what you did.... and all I did..." She sounded awed over her rudeness. "I yelled at you." She giggled quietly. "My mom would have whooped my ass for that one." She sobered again. "And I yelled at you."
Spike glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the young woman on the couch. "Ancient history, luv. Besides, I don't blame you. I deserved it."
She tilted her head, considering. "Yeah, well, the bot was... uber-creepy." She looked him in the eye. "That doesn't mean that I was excused."
Spike chuckled as he pulled a bottle from the cabinet and returned to the couch, settling beside her. "Let's just say we're even, ok?" He chuckled again. "And you're right about your mum. She liked me." Unbidden, the tears came out of nowhere, spilling over Spike's cheeks. "I loved her..." He sniffed. "I.. didn't even get to go to the funeral. No one even told me untill it was all over..."
Buffy's eyes welled, and she let the tears go. "I'm sorry, Spike... I didn't even... I didn't think... beyond Dawn... I didn't think... I thought one of the others...." She brought one hand to her throat. Jerked a bit. Reaching around her neck, she unclasped her necklace.
Spike looked at the jewelry through tear-filled eyes. "What's that?"
She took one charm off, and turned Spike's hand over, placing it in his palm. "She would-" Tears streamed as she wiped away one of his own. "She would want it for you."
Spike looked down at the guardian angel charm in his hand, then back at the crying girl in front of him. Without a word, he held his arms out, motioning for her to hug him, letting her know it was okay. She moved into his arms slowly, settled her head against his shirt. She mouthed words against his chest. Then she lifted her head, said it again. "Mommy... My mom... She loved you, too." She glanced at the charm in his hand. "She... she said you were like a guardian angel. I didn't believe her..." She looked into his eyes. "But I do now."
Spike wrapped his arms around the Slayer, holding her tightly, and he looked down at the charm that was still in his palm. He used a finger to turn it over, reading the inscription on the back. "In life, there is no greater joy, than the love of your family". Spike sniffed, trying to stop the tears. "Did she... did she actually say that she loved me?"
Buffy looked in his eyes. "She didn't have to." She laughed tearily. "God, she didn't have to. I'd come home, and this huge grin would be lighting up her face. 'That lovely young man was over,' she'd tell me. 'We had cocoa.'"
Spike chuckled. " 'Lovely young man', am I? Well, she was wrong about the "young" part..." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "But I did love her cocoa. Little marshmallows and everything."
She chuckled. "She knew. I ranted about her inviting you in, over and over. But she just smiled. 'He'd never hurt us, Buffy. And he reads Byron.' Anyone who read Byron.. I'm surprised my mom didn't kiss you." She looked at her hands soberly. "I never made her smile like that..."
Spike gave Buffy an incredulous look. "Never made her smile?! What do you think she talked to me about every time I was over? After everything she told me about you, what a wonderful young woman you were becoming, how beautiful and smart you are, it's no bloody wonder that I fell in love with you, Slayer." Buffy's eyes were alight with tears and hope. "M-Mommy said that about me?"
"That and a whole bunch of other stuff. She was so proud of you, Buffy.." Spike's eyes got a distant look. "I wish my parents had been that proud of me," he said quietly.
Unthinking, she ran a hand down his cheek, cupped it. "They loved you. How could they not?"
Spike leaned into Buffy's touch, momentarily closing his eyes. "I didn't say that they didn't love me, I said that they weren't proud of me. I never did anything to deserve it. Hell, my grandfather was a poet, published and everything, and I couldn't even write anything that wasn't bloody..." He trailed off, remembering that Buffy hadn't known about his "Bloody Awful Poet" days. "Not that I ever wrote poetry, mind you. It was just an expression..."
She wrinkled her brow. "No lies, Spike. So you couldn't write poetry?" She got a bit outraged. "So! Um.. let's stamp 'condemned' on William?" She placed her hand over his, squeezed it. "That's not fair."
Spike tried to hide a sob with a chuckle. "Tell me about it. And now look at me. I've gone right back to my old nickname."
Her other hand snaked up, ran it over the hair on the back of his head. "Spike-... I don't... I thought you got William the Bloody after you were turned..."
He leaned back against her hand. "Nope. I just shortened it. Do you want to know what it was?" She nodded, realizing it was his turn to talk, to hurt.
He gave her a sheepish look. "William the Bloody Awful Poet."
She blinked. Wrinkled her brow, and blinked again. "Are you-" She swallowed. "Oh my."
Spike just looked at her, waiting for the inevitable laugh. The same way Cecily had laughed all those years ago. But she suprised him.
"You... Yeah..." She looked at his eyes. "Why can I see that?" Now it was Spike's turn to blink. She smiled softly. Swiped his hair out of his eyes. "Bent over a notebook, trying to find the right word."
He swallowed. Time to take a chance. "Effulgent." Before she could respond, he continued. "It means something beautiful, or radiant... Like you." He glanced away, embarrassed.
A shy smile curved her lips. She tested it, rolled it around in her mouth. "Effulgent... It's... so... I don't know.. It..." She looked down. "Don't make fun of me."
He grinned. "If you won't make fun of me for starting this conversation."
"I'm not.. good, and smart, with... ya know.. big words.But... When you said it... I thought of a sunrise. Bright. It's so descriptive. I wish I could-"
Spike grinned so big, it looked like his face would split in half. "Slayer, you have just made me about as happy as I have ever been. And now I can't find the right word." He looked at her, almost shyly. "Would you... would you like to see something? Something I wrote?"
She smiled. "Yes."
He scrambled up, looking rather like a young boy headed for presents on his birthday. He trotted over and pushed the lid off of one of the sarcophogus' that was laying around, and pulled out a leather bound book. It looked at least as old as... well... Spike.
"Here they are," he said. "Personally, I think I've gotten much better lately." He opened the book to a page, that appeared to have tear stains on it. "I wrote this after... after you came back..." She gingerly accepted the old book, and began to read...
Someday
My love has followed me back home To my lonely room and bed, For many a long year I've roamed, Longing that my heart be fed.
When I saw you standing there, Lost within your mind, I knew that never had I seen, Nor could I hope to find, A love more wonderful than yours, Though I know that you aren't mine.
And through those lonely days and months, I could hardly even bear, I would have killed myself, 'Cept for the Lil' Bit who cared, We comforted eachother, Stopping each other's tears, Always hoping to turn around, And see you standing there.
Now you're finally home to stay, You'll never leave again, I pray, Still I wait and hope you'll say, "I love you, Spike", Someday, someday.
--William (aka Spike)
Reading over it, she pulled in a deep breath now and again. And at the end, she lost control, and let a few of her own tears stain the page, mingle with his.
Spike was wringing his hands nervously. "Do you.. did you like it?"
She raised her eyes to his. Her bottom lip trembled, and she forced it to stop. "It's beautiful." She frowned. "How dare they not appreciate you! I mean... I don't... I don't know a lot... But this... it's beautiful, and good."
Spike felt like jumping in the air, turning a summersault, something, anything to let his emotions show. He was trembling with excitement. "I told you that I've gotten better."
She snorted derisively. "Show them bloody awful... give them one of MY journals."
Spike started laughing again, and he flopped on the couch next to her. "I'm sure, whatever you write, is as good as my crap."
She rolled her eyes. "Angel, is an angel," she started, melodramatically. This caused Spike to laugh even harder, rolling onto his back, nearly falling off the couch.
She swatted at him self-righteously. "Knock it off!"
He gave her a playfully evil look. "I've got a better idea, why don't you join me!" He jumped to his feet and pounced her. Almost immediatly, he began tickling the Slayer's ribs.
She prepared to wince in pain, but his fingers were too gentle for that. With a squeal, she started giggling, squirming. As she squirmed, her shirt rode up, revealing the purple angry bruises.
Spike stopped instantly. "God, luv. Why didn't you tell me it was that bad." He sat back and smacked himself on the forehead. "And I never gave you the damn pills."
She looked down, instantly shamed. "It's... it's not as bad as it looks..." She tucked stray peices of hair behind her ear. "It was just... an... an accident..."
"Accident or not, I should have given you the pills." He glanced around. "Now, where did the bloody bottle get to?" He turned around, searching through the couch cushions. His butt was sticking up in the air, and he practicly had his head in between the cushions. "Where did it go!?"
She giggled, pleased to the Powers he had never asked the specifics of her 'accident'. "Do you have water?"
Spike turned, so that he was looking at her, upside down. "Huh? Oh, yeah. There's bottled water in the fridge.. And some other stuff. If you see something you want, help yourself."
She nodded, winced as she stood, and made her way to the fridge. Peeking inside, she grinned. Grabbing a water, and an apple, she said, "Want anything?"
Still upside down, but now because he was laying on the couch, holding the errant bottle. "Uh, are there any of the spicy hot wings left? They were in a big bucket."
Swinging the door open, she pulled the bucket out. "Cold??"
"Hell no. There's a microwave over by the cabinet. And see if there's any ranch sauce." He was struggleing with the bottle cap. "Damn "child-proof" thing."
Tossing the whole bucket in the microwave, and pushing a few buttons with vast hope, she walked to the couch, took the bottle out of his fumbling hands. God, he was so cute. So frustrated looking. She twisted simply, with the ease of experience, and handed the bottle back to him and returned to the "kitchen" to root through the fridge for the ranch sauce. "I assume by sauce, you mean dressing?"
"Uh, yeah, something like that." He watched her retrive the sauce and walk back toward him. Unexpectedly, he yawned, vamping out for an instant, a reflex that not all vampires had. Spike, unfortunately, didn't even realize he'd done it.
She grinned, holding the 'sauce' like a trophy, and went to hand it to him. His vamped features jolted her for a moment.
Spike noticed her simi-shocked look, realized what had happened, then quickly shook his head, returning to normal. "Sorry, 'bout that, luv," he muttered, ashamed.
She calmed her heart beat, knowing he could read it easily as a book. She grinned, shook her head. "S'ok. Don't ever check in on me when I'm cramping. I assume that's what I look like. I mean.. that's how I act. Uber- quick change to Bitchy-Buffy!" She knew she was chattering. Worse. She was babbling. God bless the microwave for beeping. She turned to retrieve his wings.
Spike grinned. "I doubt that it's quite that bad, luv."
She returned with his bucket o' wings, and snorted. "Ha. Try me." She flopped on the couch beside him. "So... Are we gonna share the pain pills with Buffy??" He dumped a few of the pills out into his palm. "This enough?"
She squinted. "Onnnnne more."
He grinned, and dumped another pill into his hand. "How about now?", he asked, handing her the pills.
She grinned, tossed the pills back, and took a few swallows of water. "So..." She snagged one of his buffalo wings and dipped it in ranch. "What's up with this Passions show?"
TBC.....
Ok, folks! This is Tequila Sunrise! How are you? How do you think we're doing? LET US KNOW! We have about... 24 parts now, but we're just putting them up two a day till we get caught up. We really hope you guys are liking this. It's our baby. Read our other stuff, too!!! lol shameless plugging... *sigh* I have no shame. Sorry.
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