If Not Wisely
Chapter 4: The Dinner, The Conversation and The Waiting
Spoilers: Begins immediately post-Wrecked, becomes AU after that.
Rating: R for swearing and some sexual situations.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Feedback: Would be highly appreciated. This is my first attempt at fanfic, and I'd like to know how I'm doing. Constructive criticism is welcome.
Distribution: So far, just here. If anyone wants it, just let me know.
Summary: Buffy continues to struggle with her feelings for Spike, and the whole gang tries to help Willow with her abuse of magic.
"Shit!" Buffy shrieked as the boiling hot water hit her hand. She was making spaghetti for Dawn's dinner, not just because it was one of Dawn's favorites, but also because it was easy. Buffy had a lot on her mind, and her heart just wasn't in it. That was evident in the fact that she had somehow missed the strainer and ended up with a nice little burn in the process. "Damn it!" Buffy cursed again as she stuck the burned portion of her hand in her mouth. Thankfully, her Slayer healing powers would kick in soon, so it wasn't that big of a deal.
Frustrated with herself for being so careless, Buffy shook the remaining water out of the pasta and returned it to the pot. Why the hell had she made the mistake of telling Spike that she wanted to talk? Of all the stupid things to do, that one had to top the list. Twisting the top off the jar of spaghetti sauce, Buffy continued to mentally berate herself. She didn't even know what she wanted to say to him. Knowing Spike, he had probably assumed that she was finally ready to profess her undying love. The stupid vampire was probably in his crypt preparing a seduction scene. She smiled at the thought. Yeah, he probably thought he was going to get lucky again. Too bad that wasn't the case. Too bad she was never going to let Spike touch her in that way ever again. Yeah, said a nagging little voice in the back of her mind, too bad.
Buffy sighed and dumped the contents of the jar into the pan with the pasta. She was actually starting to feel a little bit guilty. She knew that Spike would get his hopes up, but she also knew that she was nowhere near ready to tell him what he wanted to hear. In all truthfulness, she didn't know if she would ever be ready. Despite her confusing feelings for the vampire, and even more confusing actions, Buffy didn't think that she would ever be able to open up her incredibly guarded heart to the possibility of loving Spike. He was after all, a vampire; and evil, soulless vampire. Albeit, one who was in love with her and genuinely cared about her little sister. Still, Buffy was not going down that road again. Once was more than enough. Wasn't it?
"Dawn," Buffy called as she was ladling some spaghetti onto a plate, "dinner's ready."
Dawn turned off the rerun of Friends that she had been watching and made her way to the kitchen. Despite the huge chocolate shake that she had eaten that afternoon, she was starving. "Mmm, smells good," she said sitting down at the table. Noticing that there was only one plate, Dawn turned to her sister. "Aren't you eating?" Buffy hadn't been eating much lately, and she was starting to get a little too thin.
Buffy set the bowl of salad that she had made on the table and turned to go to the refrigerator. "Nah, I'm not that hungry," she lied. Buffy was much too nervous about her upcoming "talk" with Spike to even consider eating. "You want milk?" Grabbing the carton of milk, she turned to look at her sister.
"Yes, please," replied Dawn," and Ranch dressing, too."
Buffy grabbed the dressing and set it and the milk on the table next to Dawn. Still too nervous to sit down, she walked back over to the remaining spaghetti. "You think we should save some of this for Willow? She might be hungry when she gets home. If she ever gets home."
Dawn grimaced at the mention of the witch's name. She had promised to try, but she was still really angry. "Um, I don't know," she said, going for nonchalance and missing by a mile, "that's probably a good idea."
Buffy noticed her sister's change in demeanor, but chose to ignore it. The girl did have a right to be angry. Still, she couldn't help but worry about Willow. "So, you don't have any idea where she went, huh?"
"Nope," Dawn shrugged, talking a big gulp of milk, "I was up in my room when I heard her leave. I never actually saw her." She went back to attacking her pasta, not really caring where Willow had gone.
Buffy decided not to ignore that attitude any longer. "Listen, Dawn, I know that you're still mad, and I am too, but that doesn't mean that I'm not worried about her. Who knows where she could have gone? What if she went back to that Rack guy? Or what if she got attacked by some vamp?"
Worry creased Buffy's brow, and Dawn stated to feel a bit guilty about her indifference. "Well," she started cautiously, trying to keep control over her emotions, "if she did go back to Rack, well, that's her problem. Willow is the only one responsible for her actions. There is really nothing you can do about it. And, as far as vamps are concerned, Willow can take care of herself. She's a pretty powerful witch, you know." Seeing that her sister didn't look any less worried, Dawn decided to change tracks. "Buffy, I'm sure she's fine. You said yourself that she wanted to give up magic. I'm sure she didn't go back to that crack house. Maybe she just needed some time to think. Maybe she went to talk to Tara. Please don't worry."
Buffy smiled. Her sister was really trying. She walked over and wrapped her arms around the girl from behind, planting a kiss on top of her head. "Thanks, Dawnie. You're right. When did you get so grown up?"
"Hey," laughed Dawn, "aren't I the one who keeps telling you that I'm not a kid? `Bout time you noticed!"
Buffy laughed. "I wouldn't go quite that far. Really, though, I'm still worried about you. So, if Willow does come home while I'm on patrol, I want you to go up to your room and stay there. Don't talk to her and for God's sake don't go anywhere with her. Okay?"
"You don't have to worry about that. I won't be going anywhere near her for quite a while. I promise to stay out of her way."
"Good. I know that it's probably not necessary, but you can never be too careful."
"Yeah," snorted Dawn, "if there's one thing I've learned from being the Key and having the Slayer for a sister, it's that you can never be too careful. Hey, maybe I should lock myself in my room and hide under the bed. Or maybe, I should leave town or something." Dawn was wearing a cocky little grin that looked very much like Spike.
"Okay, smartass, you've made your point." God, when had her little sister turned into a miniature Spike? "I think you've been hanging around a certain bleached-blond vampire a little too much! It can't be good for you."
"Shows what you know," Dawn shot back. "Hanging around Spike is very good for me. He's the one that showed me that I need to stop feeling sorry for myself and quit moping around because I some stupid, freaky key-thingy. He's the one that taught me to embrace my key-ness and to realize that it's just part of what makes me special."
Buffy was intrigued. "He did that?" She must have really underestimated the impact that Spike's friendship had on her sister's life.
"Yeah," continued Dawn, "he did. He pretty much just told me that I was never going to be a normal girl and that I just had to learn to deal with it. He pointed out that you're not exactly normal either, but you're very special, and," she finished with a smile, "so am I."
"He said that about me?" Buffy was shocked. She had never really considered the notion that Spike would talk to Dawn about her. She wondered what else the vampire had said.
"Yep. Come on, Buffy," Dawn was slightly exasperated, "you must realize by now how much he loves you. He just said that you're the Slayer and have all this tremendous responsibility and everything, but yet you still manage to be Buffy. The Slayer stuff is just a part of what makes you Buffy, just like being the Key is a part of me. He showed me that I could be so much more than just some mystical ball of energy, and that I shouldn't let that define me. Just like you don't let being the Slayer define you."
"Well," Buffy was still a little bit stunned by how perceptive Spike could be, "that makes a lot of sense. Spike must be a pretty smart guy after all, even if he was a dumb villain." She joked to cover up the fact that her sister's words had really gotten to her. She was definitely starting to see another side to her former mortal enemy. "I'm glad that he's someone you can talk to. It does seem to be good for you."
"It is, Buffy. It really is." Dawn was happy that her sister seemed to finally be coming around where Spike was concerned. She knew that it would hurt her sister to hear it, but Spike had been like a big brother to Dawn the whole time that Buffy was...dead. She doubted that she would have been able to make it through that horrible time if it hadn't been for him. He was really the only one that she could talk to without having to pretend that she was okay with it all. The others had meant well, but they had so desperately wanted Dawn to be fine. Spike had just wanted her to be, well, Dawn. She could cry in front of the vampire without worrying about how it affected him. She could tell him exactly how she felt and he would listen to her and give her advice, but he never tried to make her get over her loss. Dawn knew that Spike was hurting just as much as she was, but her never tried to make her feel better, never made her feel like she had to pretend with him. He would just
hold her and listen to her cry. Sometimes, Spike would share his pain, but mostly he would just listen. Dawn would never stop being grateful to him, and, no matter what anybody else said, would never stop thinking of him as her friend.
Despite all of the times she had gone to Spike over the summer, Dawn could sense that he was hanging back now. She knew that it was because of Buffy. Spike had been devastated when she died, and having her suddenly back must have been hard on him. Dawn also knew that Spike was still very much in love with her sister, and that Buffy was still too blind to see how wonderful he really was. She could understand why Spike might not want to be around as much anymore, but she still missed his company. That's why his invitation to hang out earlier had meant so much to her. She hoped that it meant things would get back to the way they used to be. She decided to let her sister know how important it was for her to see Spike.
"Buffy."
Dawn's voice startled the Slayer, for she was equally lost in thought. "Yeah?" Buffy looked up guiltily. Shit, she had spaced off again.
"I, um, I just wanted to thank you for saying that I could go hang out with Spike tomorrow. It really means a lot to me, you know. Thanks for letting us be friends."
"No big." Buffy could see that her sister was starting to get emotional, so she tried to play it cool. "I know that he can't hurt you, so I really don't have to worry. If hanging out with him makes you happy, then I don't see why not."
Dawn could tell that Buffy was deliberately holding back, but she decided not to push her luck. If she continued to press her point, Buffy was liable to get angry and stop her from hanging out with Spike. If there was one thing that Dawn knew for sure, it was that you didn't press Buffy to talk when she didn't want to. That girl would clam up like a, well, clam and get really pissed off every time. Okay, so Spike was still a bit of a sore subject, but Dawn hoped that, over time, she could make her sister see what she saw in him. Even if she never returned his love, it would still be enough for her two favorite people to be friends. Sure, it seemed unlikely now, but a girl can hope.
Buffy had had enough of talking about Spike for the time being. It was bad enough that her thoughts almost constantly centered on him anyways, and that she was going over to see him in just a few hours, but now his sister was gushing about Spike every chance she got. Deciding to change the subject before Dawn brought up anything else to add to her confusion, Buffy said, "How's your arm doing, Dawnie?"
Dawn knew that was the end of Spike talk for the night. "Um, actually, it is starting to hurt again. When do I get another pill?"
Buffy looked at the clock over the stove. "You can probably have one now if you want. Why don't you finish your dinner first, though? We don't want you to OD, and it can't hurt to take it on a full stomach. After all, you can never be too-"
"Careful," finished Dawn. The Spike smirk had returned.
Buffy was really starting to hate that smirk. "Yeah, yeah," she grumbled. "Just eat, before it gets cold. I'm gonna wrap the rest of this up for Willow." Dawn returned to her dinner, and Buffy busied herself wrapping up the leftovers and cleaning up the kitchen. Usually, she would make Dawn do the dishes, but since the girl was injured, she got a get out of jail free card. Buffy concentrated on the menial chores and tried to wipe any thoughts of the sexy--ohmigod, did I just think sexy--blond vampire out of her head.
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Spike was getting tired of waiting. It seemed like he spent his entire bleeding unlife just waiting for the Slayer. In the beginning, he had waited for a chance to kill the silly bint. Then, after the chip, he waited for a chance to see her, didn't matter the reason as long as he simply got to exist in her presence. Later, after he had realized the extent of his feelings for her, he waited for the perfect opportunity to declare his love. After she had oh so cruelly shot him down, he waited for a crumb, any little sign that she might someday return his feelings. Once she had finally given in and kissed him--twice--he had waited for her to open up and admit the attraction, if not more, that she felt for him. And now, now that he had shagged her six ways to Sunday, he was still waiting for the stupid cow to make up her bloody mind! Bloody Hell, he was goddamn sick and tired of waiting.
With a groan of frustration, Spike shut of the telly. Gilmore Girls--he liked that show; the little Rory chit reminded him of Nibblet--was long over, and he could give a bloody damn about that poofter Clark Kent. Jumping up to light his five millionth cigarette of the night, Spike's mind went back to the other night. The night that he and the Slayer had brought the house down (quite literally) with their lovemaking. That had been, unquestionably, the best night of his entire life and unlife combined. Even now, days later, he could hardly believe that it had actually happened. Never had he dreamed that he would actually be inside the Slayer. Okay, so he had definitely dreamed about it, but he never thought he stood a chance in hell. That night had been sheer perfection. The morning after, however, had not gone quite as planned.
Spike took a hard drag off his cigarette and bit back a grimace as he remembered how he'd bollocksed the whole thing up. If only he had kept his mouth shut. If only, for once in his sodding unlife, he had thought before speaking, then the whole bloody mess might never have happened. Okay, so it hadn't started off all that well, but things were looking up. Despite the Slayer's little temper tantrum, he had managed to lure her back into his arms and was looking forward to spending the whole day snogging with the beautiful girl. But no, he had to go and bollocks the whole thing up with his big, fat mouth, as usual. He'd been trying to compliment her, really. In his own messed up way, he was trying to convey to her how wonderful their night together had been.
Spike had once told Buffy that killing that Chinese Slayer had been the best night of his life, and he just wanted her to know that being with her was even better, that loving her was even better. Sure, in hindsight, he could see that it wasn't all that bright to bring up the fact that he had previously delighted in killing her kind, but at the time it had seemed the very height of romanticism. Dru would have like it anyway. But the Slayer wasn't Dru, not by a long shot. Buffy had reacted badly, very badly. She had pushed him away and instantly reverted to her old pattern of denial and insults. And, yeah, he had lost his temper, but who could blame him really? Here he was, telling the love of his unlife how wonderful it was to be with her, and there she was, telling him that he was merely convenient. Convenient! Of all the bloody words she could have chosen, that was the one. God, he may be the vampire in this messed up little relationship of theirs, but the Slayer sure did
know how to go for the jugular.
Okay, so he had been pretty damn nasty to her as well. Spike knew that he could never really hurt Buffy physically, they were too well matched, but his words were the most powerful weapon that he possessed. Often, they could cut deeper than any bite. Maybe he shouldn't have been so hard on her, but there was something inside of him that just wouldn't let him hold back where Buffy was concerned.
Spike threw his cigarette down and crushed it under the heel of his boot. The worst thing about it all, what made him the angriest, was that he knew it wasn't true. He knew that he was more than just a convenience to her, and sod it all if she didn't know it too. That was the biggest problem with Buffy, her constant state of denial. She couldn't bring herself to admit her true feelings, not to him and most definitely not to herself. No, she was too wrapped up in seeing herself as "good" and refused to examine the darkness within. Of course, it didn't help that her heart had been broken, first by his sodding poof of a grandsire and then by Captain Cardboard. The Slayer had gotten good at putting up walls, and the wall around her heart was almost impenetrable. Spike knew that she had never even really let Soldier Boy in, Riley had told him as much. But Spike was a confident man, and he knew that somehow, some way, he would break through that wall and find the love that waited
inside.
Except now he was tired of waiting. When he had first gotten back from the Magic Box, Spike had been so excited, almost giddy. He had rushed around the crypt tidying things up for her. He had spent hours trying to decide where to sit, how to stand, what to say. He had been so happy that she finally wanted to talk to him that he had even allowed himself to consider the possibility that they might end up in bed once more. Foolishly, Spike had gone down to what he thought of as his bedroom and straightened the sheets. He had tucked all of his dirty clothes out of sight and placed candles all around the bed, hoping that they would finally have a romantic night together. Hell, he'd even gone as far as to nick some flowers off a fresh grave and scatter the petals artistically across the bed. He had absolutely no idea what the Slayer had planned, and he wanted to be ready for anything.
But the waiting had done him in. He was sick and tired of letting the Slayer run the show. Why did everything have to be on her timetable? Why should he have to wait until she was ready to talk? What if he wanted to talk now? Spike had made up his mind. He would wait no more. The vampire turned on his heel, grabbed his duster and stalked out of the crypt.
Chapter 4: The Dinner, The Conversation and The Waiting
Spoilers: Begins immediately post-Wrecked, becomes AU after that.
Rating: R for swearing and some sexual situations.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Feedback: Would be highly appreciated. This is my first attempt at fanfic, and I'd like to know how I'm doing. Constructive criticism is welcome.
Distribution: So far, just here. If anyone wants it, just let me know.
Summary: Buffy continues to struggle with her feelings for Spike, and the whole gang tries to help Willow with her abuse of magic.
"Shit!" Buffy shrieked as the boiling hot water hit her hand. She was making spaghetti for Dawn's dinner, not just because it was one of Dawn's favorites, but also because it was easy. Buffy had a lot on her mind, and her heart just wasn't in it. That was evident in the fact that she had somehow missed the strainer and ended up with a nice little burn in the process. "Damn it!" Buffy cursed again as she stuck the burned portion of her hand in her mouth. Thankfully, her Slayer healing powers would kick in soon, so it wasn't that big of a deal.
Frustrated with herself for being so careless, Buffy shook the remaining water out of the pasta and returned it to the pot. Why the hell had she made the mistake of telling Spike that she wanted to talk? Of all the stupid things to do, that one had to top the list. Twisting the top off the jar of spaghetti sauce, Buffy continued to mentally berate herself. She didn't even know what she wanted to say to him. Knowing Spike, he had probably assumed that she was finally ready to profess her undying love. The stupid vampire was probably in his crypt preparing a seduction scene. She smiled at the thought. Yeah, he probably thought he was going to get lucky again. Too bad that wasn't the case. Too bad she was never going to let Spike touch her in that way ever again. Yeah, said a nagging little voice in the back of her mind, too bad.
Buffy sighed and dumped the contents of the jar into the pan with the pasta. She was actually starting to feel a little bit guilty. She knew that Spike would get his hopes up, but she also knew that she was nowhere near ready to tell him what he wanted to hear. In all truthfulness, she didn't know if she would ever be ready. Despite her confusing feelings for the vampire, and even more confusing actions, Buffy didn't think that she would ever be able to open up her incredibly guarded heart to the possibility of loving Spike. He was after all, a vampire; and evil, soulless vampire. Albeit, one who was in love with her and genuinely cared about her little sister. Still, Buffy was not going down that road again. Once was more than enough. Wasn't it?
"Dawn," Buffy called as she was ladling some spaghetti onto a plate, "dinner's ready."
Dawn turned off the rerun of Friends that she had been watching and made her way to the kitchen. Despite the huge chocolate shake that she had eaten that afternoon, she was starving. "Mmm, smells good," she said sitting down at the table. Noticing that there was only one plate, Dawn turned to her sister. "Aren't you eating?" Buffy hadn't been eating much lately, and she was starting to get a little too thin.
Buffy set the bowl of salad that she had made on the table and turned to go to the refrigerator. "Nah, I'm not that hungry," she lied. Buffy was much too nervous about her upcoming "talk" with Spike to even consider eating. "You want milk?" Grabbing the carton of milk, she turned to look at her sister.
"Yes, please," replied Dawn," and Ranch dressing, too."
Buffy grabbed the dressing and set it and the milk on the table next to Dawn. Still too nervous to sit down, she walked back over to the remaining spaghetti. "You think we should save some of this for Willow? She might be hungry when she gets home. If she ever gets home."
Dawn grimaced at the mention of the witch's name. She had promised to try, but she was still really angry. "Um, I don't know," she said, going for nonchalance and missing by a mile, "that's probably a good idea."
Buffy noticed her sister's change in demeanor, but chose to ignore it. The girl did have a right to be angry. Still, she couldn't help but worry about Willow. "So, you don't have any idea where she went, huh?"
"Nope," Dawn shrugged, talking a big gulp of milk, "I was up in my room when I heard her leave. I never actually saw her." She went back to attacking her pasta, not really caring where Willow had gone.
Buffy decided not to ignore that attitude any longer. "Listen, Dawn, I know that you're still mad, and I am too, but that doesn't mean that I'm not worried about her. Who knows where she could have gone? What if she went back to that Rack guy? Or what if she got attacked by some vamp?"
Worry creased Buffy's brow, and Dawn stated to feel a bit guilty about her indifference. "Well," she started cautiously, trying to keep control over her emotions, "if she did go back to Rack, well, that's her problem. Willow is the only one responsible for her actions. There is really nothing you can do about it. And, as far as vamps are concerned, Willow can take care of herself. She's a pretty powerful witch, you know." Seeing that her sister didn't look any less worried, Dawn decided to change tracks. "Buffy, I'm sure she's fine. You said yourself that she wanted to give up magic. I'm sure she didn't go back to that crack house. Maybe she just needed some time to think. Maybe she went to talk to Tara. Please don't worry."
Buffy smiled. Her sister was really trying. She walked over and wrapped her arms around the girl from behind, planting a kiss on top of her head. "Thanks, Dawnie. You're right. When did you get so grown up?"
"Hey," laughed Dawn, "aren't I the one who keeps telling you that I'm not a kid? `Bout time you noticed!"
Buffy laughed. "I wouldn't go quite that far. Really, though, I'm still worried about you. So, if Willow does come home while I'm on patrol, I want you to go up to your room and stay there. Don't talk to her and for God's sake don't go anywhere with her. Okay?"
"You don't have to worry about that. I won't be going anywhere near her for quite a while. I promise to stay out of her way."
"Good. I know that it's probably not necessary, but you can never be too careful."
"Yeah," snorted Dawn, "if there's one thing I've learned from being the Key and having the Slayer for a sister, it's that you can never be too careful. Hey, maybe I should lock myself in my room and hide under the bed. Or maybe, I should leave town or something." Dawn was wearing a cocky little grin that looked very much like Spike.
"Okay, smartass, you've made your point." God, when had her little sister turned into a miniature Spike? "I think you've been hanging around a certain bleached-blond vampire a little too much! It can't be good for you."
"Shows what you know," Dawn shot back. "Hanging around Spike is very good for me. He's the one that showed me that I need to stop feeling sorry for myself and quit moping around because I some stupid, freaky key-thingy. He's the one that taught me to embrace my key-ness and to realize that it's just part of what makes me special."
Buffy was intrigued. "He did that?" She must have really underestimated the impact that Spike's friendship had on her sister's life.
"Yeah," continued Dawn, "he did. He pretty much just told me that I was never going to be a normal girl and that I just had to learn to deal with it. He pointed out that you're not exactly normal either, but you're very special, and," she finished with a smile, "so am I."
"He said that about me?" Buffy was shocked. She had never really considered the notion that Spike would talk to Dawn about her. She wondered what else the vampire had said.
"Yep. Come on, Buffy," Dawn was slightly exasperated, "you must realize by now how much he loves you. He just said that you're the Slayer and have all this tremendous responsibility and everything, but yet you still manage to be Buffy. The Slayer stuff is just a part of what makes you Buffy, just like being the Key is a part of me. He showed me that I could be so much more than just some mystical ball of energy, and that I shouldn't let that define me. Just like you don't let being the Slayer define you."
"Well," Buffy was still a little bit stunned by how perceptive Spike could be, "that makes a lot of sense. Spike must be a pretty smart guy after all, even if he was a dumb villain." She joked to cover up the fact that her sister's words had really gotten to her. She was definitely starting to see another side to her former mortal enemy. "I'm glad that he's someone you can talk to. It does seem to be good for you."
"It is, Buffy. It really is." Dawn was happy that her sister seemed to finally be coming around where Spike was concerned. She knew that it would hurt her sister to hear it, but Spike had been like a big brother to Dawn the whole time that Buffy was...dead. She doubted that she would have been able to make it through that horrible time if it hadn't been for him. He was really the only one that she could talk to without having to pretend that she was okay with it all. The others had meant well, but they had so desperately wanted Dawn to be fine. Spike had just wanted her to be, well, Dawn. She could cry in front of the vampire without worrying about how it affected him. She could tell him exactly how she felt and he would listen to her and give her advice, but he never tried to make her get over her loss. Dawn knew that Spike was hurting just as much as she was, but her never tried to make her feel better, never made her feel like she had to pretend with him. He would just
hold her and listen to her cry. Sometimes, Spike would share his pain, but mostly he would just listen. Dawn would never stop being grateful to him, and, no matter what anybody else said, would never stop thinking of him as her friend.
Despite all of the times she had gone to Spike over the summer, Dawn could sense that he was hanging back now. She knew that it was because of Buffy. Spike had been devastated when she died, and having her suddenly back must have been hard on him. Dawn also knew that Spike was still very much in love with her sister, and that Buffy was still too blind to see how wonderful he really was. She could understand why Spike might not want to be around as much anymore, but she still missed his company. That's why his invitation to hang out earlier had meant so much to her. She hoped that it meant things would get back to the way they used to be. She decided to let her sister know how important it was for her to see Spike.
"Buffy."
Dawn's voice startled the Slayer, for she was equally lost in thought. "Yeah?" Buffy looked up guiltily. Shit, she had spaced off again.
"I, um, I just wanted to thank you for saying that I could go hang out with Spike tomorrow. It really means a lot to me, you know. Thanks for letting us be friends."
"No big." Buffy could see that her sister was starting to get emotional, so she tried to play it cool. "I know that he can't hurt you, so I really don't have to worry. If hanging out with him makes you happy, then I don't see why not."
Dawn could tell that Buffy was deliberately holding back, but she decided not to push her luck. If she continued to press her point, Buffy was liable to get angry and stop her from hanging out with Spike. If there was one thing that Dawn knew for sure, it was that you didn't press Buffy to talk when she didn't want to. That girl would clam up like a, well, clam and get really pissed off every time. Okay, so Spike was still a bit of a sore subject, but Dawn hoped that, over time, she could make her sister see what she saw in him. Even if she never returned his love, it would still be enough for her two favorite people to be friends. Sure, it seemed unlikely now, but a girl can hope.
Buffy had had enough of talking about Spike for the time being. It was bad enough that her thoughts almost constantly centered on him anyways, and that she was going over to see him in just a few hours, but now his sister was gushing about Spike every chance she got. Deciding to change the subject before Dawn brought up anything else to add to her confusion, Buffy said, "How's your arm doing, Dawnie?"
Dawn knew that was the end of Spike talk for the night. "Um, actually, it is starting to hurt again. When do I get another pill?"
Buffy looked at the clock over the stove. "You can probably have one now if you want. Why don't you finish your dinner first, though? We don't want you to OD, and it can't hurt to take it on a full stomach. After all, you can never be too-"
"Careful," finished Dawn. The Spike smirk had returned.
Buffy was really starting to hate that smirk. "Yeah, yeah," she grumbled. "Just eat, before it gets cold. I'm gonna wrap the rest of this up for Willow." Dawn returned to her dinner, and Buffy busied herself wrapping up the leftovers and cleaning up the kitchen. Usually, she would make Dawn do the dishes, but since the girl was injured, she got a get out of jail free card. Buffy concentrated on the menial chores and tried to wipe any thoughts of the sexy--ohmigod, did I just think sexy--blond vampire out of her head.
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Spike was getting tired of waiting. It seemed like he spent his entire bleeding unlife just waiting for the Slayer. In the beginning, he had waited for a chance to kill the silly bint. Then, after the chip, he waited for a chance to see her, didn't matter the reason as long as he simply got to exist in her presence. Later, after he had realized the extent of his feelings for her, he waited for the perfect opportunity to declare his love. After she had oh so cruelly shot him down, he waited for a crumb, any little sign that she might someday return his feelings. Once she had finally given in and kissed him--twice--he had waited for her to open up and admit the attraction, if not more, that she felt for him. And now, now that he had shagged her six ways to Sunday, he was still waiting for the stupid cow to make up her bloody mind! Bloody Hell, he was goddamn sick and tired of waiting.
With a groan of frustration, Spike shut of the telly. Gilmore Girls--he liked that show; the little Rory chit reminded him of Nibblet--was long over, and he could give a bloody damn about that poofter Clark Kent. Jumping up to light his five millionth cigarette of the night, Spike's mind went back to the other night. The night that he and the Slayer had brought the house down (quite literally) with their lovemaking. That had been, unquestionably, the best night of his entire life and unlife combined. Even now, days later, he could hardly believe that it had actually happened. Never had he dreamed that he would actually be inside the Slayer. Okay, so he had definitely dreamed about it, but he never thought he stood a chance in hell. That night had been sheer perfection. The morning after, however, had not gone quite as planned.
Spike took a hard drag off his cigarette and bit back a grimace as he remembered how he'd bollocksed the whole thing up. If only he had kept his mouth shut. If only, for once in his sodding unlife, he had thought before speaking, then the whole bloody mess might never have happened. Okay, so it hadn't started off all that well, but things were looking up. Despite the Slayer's little temper tantrum, he had managed to lure her back into his arms and was looking forward to spending the whole day snogging with the beautiful girl. But no, he had to go and bollocks the whole thing up with his big, fat mouth, as usual. He'd been trying to compliment her, really. In his own messed up way, he was trying to convey to her how wonderful their night together had been.
Spike had once told Buffy that killing that Chinese Slayer had been the best night of his life, and he just wanted her to know that being with her was even better, that loving her was even better. Sure, in hindsight, he could see that it wasn't all that bright to bring up the fact that he had previously delighted in killing her kind, but at the time it had seemed the very height of romanticism. Dru would have like it anyway. But the Slayer wasn't Dru, not by a long shot. Buffy had reacted badly, very badly. She had pushed him away and instantly reverted to her old pattern of denial and insults. And, yeah, he had lost his temper, but who could blame him really? Here he was, telling the love of his unlife how wonderful it was to be with her, and there she was, telling him that he was merely convenient. Convenient! Of all the bloody words she could have chosen, that was the one. God, he may be the vampire in this messed up little relationship of theirs, but the Slayer sure did
know how to go for the jugular.
Okay, so he had been pretty damn nasty to her as well. Spike knew that he could never really hurt Buffy physically, they were too well matched, but his words were the most powerful weapon that he possessed. Often, they could cut deeper than any bite. Maybe he shouldn't have been so hard on her, but there was something inside of him that just wouldn't let him hold back where Buffy was concerned.
Spike threw his cigarette down and crushed it under the heel of his boot. The worst thing about it all, what made him the angriest, was that he knew it wasn't true. He knew that he was more than just a convenience to her, and sod it all if she didn't know it too. That was the biggest problem with Buffy, her constant state of denial. She couldn't bring herself to admit her true feelings, not to him and most definitely not to herself. No, she was too wrapped up in seeing herself as "good" and refused to examine the darkness within. Of course, it didn't help that her heart had been broken, first by his sodding poof of a grandsire and then by Captain Cardboard. The Slayer had gotten good at putting up walls, and the wall around her heart was almost impenetrable. Spike knew that she had never even really let Soldier Boy in, Riley had told him as much. But Spike was a confident man, and he knew that somehow, some way, he would break through that wall and find the love that waited
inside.
Except now he was tired of waiting. When he had first gotten back from the Magic Box, Spike had been so excited, almost giddy. He had rushed around the crypt tidying things up for her. He had spent hours trying to decide where to sit, how to stand, what to say. He had been so happy that she finally wanted to talk to him that he had even allowed himself to consider the possibility that they might end up in bed once more. Foolishly, Spike had gone down to what he thought of as his bedroom and straightened the sheets. He had tucked all of his dirty clothes out of sight and placed candles all around the bed, hoping that they would finally have a romantic night together. Hell, he'd even gone as far as to nick some flowers off a fresh grave and scatter the petals artistically across the bed. He had absolutely no idea what the Slayer had planned, and he wanted to be ready for anything.
But the waiting had done him in. He was sick and tired of letting the Slayer run the show. Why did everything have to be on her timetable? Why should he have to wait until she was ready to talk? What if he wanted to talk now? Spike had made up his mind. He would wait no more. The vampire turned on his heel, grabbed his duster and stalked out of the crypt.