Lonely Vigil
by
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, Joss Whedon, please don't sue me! The only thing of value I own is the computer, anyway!
Author's Note: Please be easy on me, as this is my first foray into the Buffiverse. It is not, however, my first fanfic, so feel free to send constructive criticisms to teneljade@netzero.net. Thanks!
Setting: Canon until right after 'Into the Woods', AU afterwards.
Rating: PG-13
PART TWO
Spike didn't see Buffy for a couple of days, and he got the feeling he was being purposefully avoided. When he finally did catch her without an excuse, it was just after dark at the Magic Box. Good thing was, Dawn was with Joyce, and all of the Scooby gang was in the immediate area, so she couldn't make up reasons to leave. Bad thing was, all her friends were there.
"Hey, Slayer!" He called as he pushed open the door.
Giles looked up at the sound of his voice, and scowled. "If you want to stay alive, or at least undead, I'd leave rather quickly, Spike."
"Are you threatening me, Watcher?"
"No. But I do believe Buffy is rather... unhappy with you."
"Where is she?"
"In the training room." Giles called after the vampire as he headed towards the back of the shop. "Spike-- that's your last chance to reconsider. I would keep in mind that there's a lot of wood back there."
Spike nodded. "Thanks." But he continued on, heading fearlessly into a situation that no vampire in its right mind would ever want to be in. Especially since the Slayer killed them when she wasn't mad at them, add anger to the mix, and make her practically undefeatable.
He flung open the door and was promptly tackled by Buffy, who'd apparently heard everything and had been lying in wait for him on the other side of the doorframe. "Oof!" A hard puff of air went sailing from his lungs. Why did he bother to breathe anymore, anyway? He was over a hundred years old, and he still employed human mannerisms. He was a disgrace to the title of vampire.
When he'd recovered a little, he opened his eyes to find himself on his back with a pissed little Slayer sitting on his stomach, stake in hand and ready for action. "Give me five good reasons why I shouldn't stake you." Were her first words.
"Well, hello to you, too, Buffy."
She pressed the end of the stake against his chest. "Five reasons, now in a minute or less, Spike."
He swallowed hard. "Look, Buffy..."
He looked up at her for help, but found none, now only that her friends had crowded around the watch the little show. Great.
"Look, Slayer, I'm not going to waste my unlife not telling you how I feel about you. If you don't reciprocate, that's fine, but I won't live in regret! Do you bloody know what regret feels like?"
Buffy gave him a tight smile with no humor behind it. The kind he'd seen her use before she staked vamps. "Yeah, 'fraid I do, William. Thirty seconds."
"Okay, okay! We'll never talk about it again, I'll pack up and leave if I have to, but you could use me. I mean, vampire strength, right?"
Buffy got tiredly off of him, and he picked himself up, wincing as he went. "Slayer... I'll never say it again if you don't want me to... but I love you."
That said, everyone's jaw gaping open, the vampire ran from the magic shop, afraid of what the Slayer's wrath would hold for him this time. He knew he'd gotten extremely close to getting staked this time, and he didn't want a repeat of the performance, especially if the ending changed.
*********
Again, it was a few days before they ran into each other, but this time, it was Spike avoiding Buffy. He argued with himself all day long, but it was always the same: He wanted to see what she'd say to his declaration of love, but his survival instincts were always stronger.
Finally, she cornered him in his hide-out, with no where to run in broad daylight. She looked mad, and Spike hoped she wasn't as upset as she seemed.
She stalked forward, sharp stake in front of her, forcing him back towards, and then up against the wall, her sharp gaze never leaving his, the anger in her eyes perceptible to all but the youngest or most idiotic people. "What the hell did you think you were doing the other day?" She asked menacingly.
"Telling you the truth! I couldn't live with myself if I hadn't."
Buffy shook her head, and looked almost sad for him. "I hate to tell you this Spike," She said, looking almost too gleeful for Spike's taste, "but you're a scum-sucking weasel, and there would never, ever, be a you and I, even if we were the only two people on earth."
Spike's heart felt like it had jumped in his chest. He looked at the floor, and away from Buffy so that she wouldn't see the tear that escaped his sad and hurt eyes. "Is that all, Slayer? Are we done?"
"No way. I've got a million more things to say."
Spike looked up and remarked sharply, "Do you think they could wait for tomorrow? Or maybe the next day, since tomorrow I'm liable to have on hell of a hangover."
Buffy saw the tears running down his face, and stopped her little tirade. She seemed surprised. "You're... you're crying."
"'Course I am, you idiot! The woman I'm in love with just told me that I'm 'scum-sucking slime'. Did I get it right? No, I didn't, it was a weasel, not slime."
Buffy backed away, towards the door, and Spike simply stayed where he was, slumped against the wall, not even watching her go.
She left silently, leaving Spike to slide down the wall to the floor, only getting up long enough to grab several bottles and flasks of liquor and return the couch, where he proceeded to spend the rest of the day and night in a drunken stupor.
Buffy spent the next day wondering about her choice with Spike. Sure, there was no chance between them... but she could have been a little nicer...
No! She snapped at herself. This is Spike. Spike doesn't get nice. Spike doesn't deserve nice.
Yeah? Asked her inner voice. He looked hurt. Maybe he really meant it. He wouldn't be the first one, would he?
Even if he does, Buffy argued with herself, I might as well not encourage him. If he got together with me, he'd just end up leaving anyway.
Are you sure? Asked her opponent. Other people seem to be able to find the ones they love, and stay with them. Maybe you just haven't met the right one yet.
"I'm damn sure!" Buffy snapped out. Willow, who'd just opened the door to her dorm room, looked at her.
"Buffy?" She asked.
"Sorry. Just having a little argument with myself."
"About?" Willow held the door open, and motioned Buffy inside. They both sank into the couch cushions, and continued talking.
"Spike."
"What? Did he do something, and you need to figure out how to punish him?" Willow asked curiously.
Buffy cracked a little smile. "No. It's just that... I was pretty hard on him yesterday... and when I left... he was crying."
"Crying?" Willow looked incredulous. "Like, tears running down your cheeks crying?"
Buffy nodded. "And I almost feel bad. But I don't want to! I mean, this is Spike, remember?"
"I remember."
"That was more for me, than for you," Buffy explained. "I have this annoying little inner voice that keeps telling me I was mean to Spike, and I should go apologize. Or something like that."
"Well... should you?"
"Apologize? To Spike?" Buffy looked at her best friend like she was speaking a foreign language.
"Yeah. I mean, all he did was tell you the truth. Nobody deserves to have their heads snapped off for feelings they can't control, Buffy," Willow reminded her gently.
Buffy was starting to look a guilty. "I know, I know! It's just that... I feel like if I did that, I'd be leading him on. And just because he's telling the truth doesn't mean that there's any chance or any 'us'."
"I know. But... maybe you should talk to him, Buffy."
"You're right, Will. You're always right. I guess I'll talk to him tonight. Now, shopping?"
Willow grinned, and popped up from the couch. "Going shopping, going shopping, going shopping, here I come!" She sang out gleefully. Buffy laughed.
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