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 THREE
Spike was slumped in his chair, watching old Dawson's Creek re-runs when the door flew up. He looked up, but saw only a light blur, vaguely pink, through his drunken haze. "Who is it?" He asked, slurring his words slightly.
"Buffy," Came the Slayer's voice, surprisingly soft.
Despite his intoxication, the vampire pulled himself upright, and clicked off the TV. Now that he knew who she was, if he squinted right, he could see that the blob was vaguely Slayer-shaped. "Yeah, what do you want?"
She crept closer, and Spike knew the smart thing to do would be to rise, and go in the other direction, but he was beyond caring for his safety at this point. "I'm sorry, Spike." She said quietly.
Spike didn't think he could have heard her right. "What?"
"I said, I'm sorry, Spike."
The hundred-year-old vampire wasn't quite sure how to answer to that. "Oh."
The silence in the room didn't last long, as Buffy launched into a usual tirade, which, as usual, made Spike want to laugh, though, this time, he didn't. "This doesn't mean that there's an 'us', or that there ever will be. But I owe you a lot, Spike, and I shouldn't have treated you the way I did."
Spike looked away. "Well, it doesn't really matter, does it? Because I'm just a monster, a creature of the night, something so awful that you need to be super-human to kill me. I prey on the innocent. I protect the name of evil. Why should the assigned fighter of evil care about how I feel?"
There was a long pause, and then Buffy replied softly, obviously having actually given it some thought. "I don't know."
"That was a rhetorical question, Slayer."
"Oh. Sorry."
There was an awkward pause, and then Spike held up the flask of brandy. "Want some?" He asked.
Buffy looked about to give her usual 'eww, yuck' routine, then remembered that she'd just come to apologize for things that came out of her mouth when she didn't think first. "No."
"Well, you're welcome to have a seat, and watch with me, then," Spike said. "Jen is busy forcing Jack to confront his sexuality."
Buffy made a face, but accepted the seat next to the vampire, careful to keep body-space room between them. "And this is entertaining, why?"
Spike shrugged. "When it's all you have, besides sleeping, for twelve or fifteen hours of the day, you get used to television. This is some of the better stuff."
Buffy was clearly skeptical, but she settled in and gave it her honest best shot, and by the time it was over, she was chatting as enthusiastically as Spike was about the show.
When she left, a little after ten that night, she was smiling a little, and her cloudy bad mood had lifted. Spike, on the other hand, was rapidly becoming hung-over instead of drunk, and settled in to sleep it off as best as he could.
Buffy knew that the vampire was going to have a headache in the gallon-size package when he awoke, plus he wouldn't have anything to do all day, so she headed to his house around nine in the morning equipped with aspirin, a couple of movies, and some cloths that could be wetted and placed on his head. She had assumed, rightly so, that Spike wouldn't own much of anything beyond a few pairs of black jeans and shirts, and a duster.
When she entered the hole that he lived in, it was twice as gently as she usually did, and without damaging the door at all. Spike was asleep on the top of the stone that he slept on, for what reason, Buffy had no idea. The vampire was by no means rich, but he had a little money, certainly enough to buy himself a bed.
What caught her attention was not the fact that he hadn't bothered to remove any of his clothes the previous night, or even that he looked amazingly vulnerable when he was sleeping, but the fact that he was tossing and turning, quite clearly calling out her name. "Buffy!" He cried softly. "Buffy, nooooooooooo!"
Buffy knew she shouldn't wake someone having a nightmare ordinarily, but in this case, she was pretty sure waking him up and reassuring him that she was fine would be the best course of action. She reached down gently, and shook his arm.
Slowly coming back to the real world, Spike opened his eyes and squinted up at her. "Buffy?" He asked, sounding incredulous. "But... but..."
Buffy felt a sudden protectiveness towards the outcast vampire, and reached down to smooth his hair away from his face. "It was just a dream, Spike. I'm fine."
He took her completely by surprise when he sat up and grabbed in a hug, resting his head on her shoulder, and almost shaking with the emotion. Buffy's first inclination was to throw him off of her, but then she realized that he was acting almost like a lost child, and she couldn't, or at least, didn't want to, really do that. She began to wonder if maybe she'd underestimated the intensity of the vampire's feelings.
After a moment, he pulled away from her, wiping his eyes on the back of his hands roughly. Buffy just watched him, not offering anything.
Spike hopped down from the crypt holding his head and moaning softly, and grabbed up a pair of pants and another black shirt. He looked at her pointedly, and she turned, giving him as much privacy as she could under the circumstances. The rustle of clothing behind her back was giving her odd sensations, but she did her best to ignore them.
The movement stopped, and Spike told her she could turn around. She dug the bottle of aspirin out of her pocket, and handed it to him. "Here," She said. "I thought you might need this. You looked pretty smashed last night."
He took it from her gently, and she was almost amazed by the delicacy of his slender hands. The nail polish was old and chipping, but gave the same impression, the impression of power and strength. Silently, she berated herself for allowing herself to think about, of all people, Spike, that way.
"Thanks," He replied, looking uncomfortable. Buffy turned and left, returning for just a second, just long enough to remind him to meet the Scooby gang that night at the Magic Box to discuss some local demon population's spawning. He nodded, and she turned her back.
Spike spent a long time thinking about that small gesture. It wasn't that long ago that she wouldn't have turned her back to the vampire, no matter what. Now, she did it as habit, just as she left anyone else's home. It was a trust issue, a small one, admittedly, but an issue just the same. And he was proud that she was learning he wasn't so awful, anymore.
At seven that evening, the sun was almost set, and all of the 'Scooby gang', minus Spike, were gathered at the Magic Box. Giles pushed his glasses up on his nose, the way he did, and dropped his armful of books on the table. "Well, shall we get started?" He asked.
Buffy didn't bother to look up from the book she had her nose buried in, studying for a test at school. "Spike's not here."
Giles looked at his Slayer, and cleared his throat a little. "Buffy... you made it most clear... that Spike was not welcome. Do you really think he'll come?"
The door banged open, and the vampire stormed in, his coat over his head. "Hey!" He exclaimed. "Whose bright idea was it to have this meeting before the sun set?"
No one answered, and Spike threw himself into a chair opposite the Slayer. "Well, if no one's going to 'fess up, I guess we'd better get on with whatever it was that I got burned getting her for." He didn't miss the look between the Watcher and the Slayer, and he grinned. Buffy glared at him.
"Didn't think I'd show, Watcher?" He asked.
Giles pushed his glasses up his nose again. "Well, to be perfectly honest, no."
Buffy put down her textbook, and clapped her hands. "All right, all right! Enough chatter, let's get to work."
So, for the next couple of hours, the Scooby gang gathered around a table and researched the mating habits of some demon or another that was infesting the sewers of Sunnydale.
Eventually, it was decided that Spike would go with Willow, and Buffy with Tara. Muscle with magick, as Buffy put it. They had decided that they might need some of both to clear out the hormonal demons.
At ten that night, the teams left. Giles stayed at the Magic Box, doing whatever it was that he did with his spare time, and Anya, her job over once the research was done, went home with Xander, a goofy grin on her face, like usual. Except when there wasn't enough room between her face and Xander's for a smile.
Dawn was at home with Joyce, and Buffy mentally ran through the list of where her friends were. Noting that she knew where everyone was, that left the entire gang accounted for. This was when Buffy felt most safe, so she was relatively at ease even as she headed into battle alongside the quiet wicca.
Walking with a little spring in her step, Buffy looked over at Tara. She'd sent Willow with Spike, because she'd been afraid that the vampire might intimidate the poor girl. Tara, for all her power, was quiet and shy, and didn't seem to gain confidence even when she was using her magick, unlike Willow. The red-haired witch might stutter and act unsure when approached about performing a spell, but once she got it going, there was no doubt of her powers.
Tara, pretty much acted nervous and anxious and shy all the time. And Buffy had decided that it was time the girl got set at ease with the Scoobies. After all, she'd been with them a whole year, and if their team was going to run smoothly, they needed to trust each other. And, as much as Buffy wanted to, she didn't know Tara well enough to trust her.
That's going to change, Buffy told herself determinedly. Now.
She slung her hair over her shoulder, and smiled at the taller girl. "I think it's time you and I got to know each other, don't you?"
Tara looked at her nervously, and stuttered her response. "S-s-sure," She agreed.
Buffy nodded, ignoring the wicca's obvious anxiety. "Well, let's start with something simple." She pondered a moment. "What's your favorite movie?" She asked.
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