"It never fails." she feinted left and smashed the vampire just under the bridge of his nose. He clapped his hands over the broken point and staggered backwards. "New clothes, and you guys show up." Buffy continued, sweeping the legs out from underneath the tottering bloodsucker. "I mean," she flipped a stake out from her waistband, "where are you on sweatpants day ?" No response, except for a slightly choked growl. She shrugged. A vampire-shaped dust cloud floated up into the air, and was carried away. No sense of humor, that's their problem, she found herself thinking. Aside from, you know, the whole dead thing.
She paused, and extended her senses for an instant, on impulse. There was an oddly familiar rustle from the bushes. Speaking of dead... Buffy reached an hand into the underbrush, clamped down on something leather, and hauled away. Spike found himself doing an involuntary backflip into the open.
"Bloody hell, slayer, give a bloke a little warning !" he yelped through a mouthful of turf. "What if it hadn't been me ?" he added. Her eyes flashed green.
"Give it up, Spike." she said softly. "It was you. It's been you every night since... since. What is this ?"
"I'm just watching your back. That's all."
"Not true." she folded her arms across her chest. "You don't trust me."
"I- eh ?"
"You heard me. You don't trust me. You think I'm not... up to par, or whatever. That having been dead's messed up my slaying. When will you all understand that I'm fine ?!" the last sentence was shouted at the sky. She looked back at him. "I'm fine." she repeated. "I just... want to be left alone right now. Okay ? It's the chosen one, not the chosen one and... others. Company. People. Oh, shit." she slumped onto a tombstone. "I just... never wanted to feel like this."
"Like what, pet ?" he ventured.
"Like... everyone thinks I'm... weak." She expected to let that last word hang in the air for a while, to impress Spike with the magnitude of what's she'd let spill out. He laughed, and she shot him a murderous glare. "What's so funny ?" she hissed.
"Not you, slayer." he smiled honestly at her. "We don't think you're weak." Did I just say we ? his brain remarked, but he continued on. "Lots of things we think about you, but none of 'em's 'weak'. It's us, not you."
"Us how ?"
"We're afraid." he said cautiously. No use in holding back, I suppose. "I'm afraid."
"Choice words, Big Bad." she snapped, and winced as she watched hurt flash across his pale face.
"You want to hear what I have to say or not ?" he asked through tight lips. She nodded. "I failed you." he said quietly. "Failed miserably." Buffy realized she was holding her breath. "Let you die. And it's not gonna happen, not ever again. You can hate me for it all you want, but I'm gonna be here, day in, day out, for as long as I have to be." He put his hands in his pockets, waiting for her to mock him. Buffy's jaw hung slack.
"Spike..." she breathed, "Spike... nobody failed me. Not you. You did everything you could... so much more than I ever thought... you didn't fail me. Is that what you think ?" His eyes refused to meet hers. "Oh my God, is that what you all really think ? That I died... because of you ?" She grabbed his chin, and the action startled him into meeting her stare. "You. Didn't. Fail. Me. I made a choice. To protect Dawnie. To protect the world. It wasn't anybody's fault."
"I know." he said thickly. "I know. Doesn't make it... go away, though."
"Oh, don't..." she murmured, and wrapped her arms around his neck. He was too surprised to say anything else. They stood like that for a moment, and he slowly wrapped his arms around her, letting her warmth sink into him. It was nothing like he'd imagined, or rather fantasized. There were no hungry pawings, no sweat, no 'I want you-s' from either side. It was enough. It was more than enough. It was approaching 'wildest dreams' territory. She held her friends like this, when they sorrowed, she held her sister this way to reassure her of the blood that flowed between them. In a moment, she'd release him, and they'd both turn away to hide the moisture coming to their eyes. They'd been enemies once, and old habits die hard. But for now there was nothing for either one of them but each other.
They just stood with their arms around each other, letting each other know, in the oldest way, that there was another being on this earth who cared.
"That's disgusting." the thing muttered, out of one corner of his... Eric just kind of assumed it was a mouth. "Look at them. They don't even have the decency to pretend it's lust."
"Yeah. Gross." Eric shoved his hands in his pockets. He was hungry, and right now he didn't really care what the slayer did with any vampire, as long as it wasn't him. Being this close to her made him nervous, anyhow. He was small, and redheaded, and had been in Buffy's biology class a few years back. Then, she'd made him a little nervous because of the short skirts. This wasn't quite the same. The thing beside him shifted, and a thin trickle of drool escaped the corner of its mouth. Eric fought the urge to heave. This kebby, or kebbut, or however you pronounced it... thing... was probably the worst partner he'd ever had to go on duty with. "Are we almost done ?" The thing smiled slowly at him.
"Not quite. You see ?" he indicated the graveyard, where the slayer and vampire had parted, and were now awkwardly glancing at the ground. The redhead rolled his yellow eyes.
"Yeah, I see, and I don't know what it has to do with-" he found himself lifted off the ground by a tentacle the consistency of elderly Jell-O.
"Lumhe has sent us for the slayer. And we will return, with the slayer." the thing gave him a sickly smile, and Eric remembered what he'd heard about these kebby-things. They weren't choosy with meals.
"Right." he nodded. "Right, right, right."
