Lord Knows I Can't Change
That night they held an official service for Nell. They built a make shift gravestone out of album covers and liner notes. They figured they'd hang it right over the stereo. "She'd probably want her ashes scattered over Madonna's house," Roman mused. "But I don't know where she lives."
That night, they received another phone call from Willow. Spike answered, and the two of them screwed with each other for a bit. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm afraid we ate Buffy this morning. If you like, I can hold the receiver next to my belly and you can shout stuff."
"Gimme the phone," Buffy snatched it from him.
"You're at Spike's?" Willow asked, obviously amused.
"Yeah…it's a very long story."
Willow laughed. "Sounds like a doozy. So how was thwarting evil?"
"Not bad," Buffy shrugged. "I can't say I'm eager to jump back into the business though. I was shot at."
"Hmm. That does seem to be one of the cons. I'm glad I could help, just the same. Listen, I called because I was looking through an old box of shit I found in my closet and I found something I think you and Dawn would want to hear. I would rather not do this over the phone but I didn't think I could wait until I saw you again."
Buffy suddenly became worried. "What is it, Wil?"
"Oh it's nothing bad. I just found a cassette tape. It's marked "Private. For the Love of God Do Not Play."
Buffy laughed a bit in disbelief. "Oh my God. Is that one of Gile's demo's?"
"That's what I'm thinking. I haven't played it yet. I wanted to wait for you."
Buffy felt the threat of tears rising very rapidly in her throat. "I'll uh…put you on speaker. Hey, Dawn! Come here!"
Dawn walked over to the phone as the rest of the house looked on in interest. "Willow has something for us."
There were the clicking sounds of Willow messing with the tape deck, and after a few minutes of idle feedback, Giles' guitar came strumming through the receiver. Dawn put her hand over her mouth and sat down next to Buffy. They were OK, until his voice, fluid and clear, came drifting across space.
~ And if I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me? ~
"Oh my God," Buffy said, laughing as she rubbed a tear from her face. "Lynard Skynard? I'm aghast."
"Shhh…" Willow shushed her, and it was apparent she had started to cry as well.
Dawn scooted over into Buffy's lap and they started rocking in time to the music. Spike, Roman and Davis looked at each other. Though Spike was really the only one who understood what was going on, it was easy to see this was very significant somehow.
"Cause I'm as free as a bird now," Roman suddenly sang along under his breath. Spike and Davis sparked up their lighters and swayed them hypnotically to the rhythm. "And a bird you cannot change."
Roman tried taking the next verse a little louder until Buffy and Dawn noticed. They just smiled at him, so he grinned and belted out the next line at the top of his lungs. "Bye, bye, it's been sweet love. Though this feeling I can't change," The group all sang along rather tunelessly into the night sky, no one particularly on key and no one really knowing all the words. Music is like that. Even if on the surface the song has really no obvious relevance, it somehow manages to give meaning to random acts. Nell wouldn't listen to this song in a million years but somehow the lyrics seemed to fit for them at that second, in that moment. They would always hear this song and think of their fallen friends, of this place in time, and it would help. And even though Nell might have rather slapped on some Depeche Mode, they all knew she would appreciate this little tribute.
~ Please don't take it so badly. Lord, knows that I must play. ~
The rocking section struck up and Dawn started drumming on the kitchen table. As the climax of the song built, so did the general spirits of everyone in the room. It wasn't long before Davis was doing the Phish tour shuffle, Roman and Ryan were doing air guitar around the room and Spike and the Summers girls did their best headbang. "And a bird you cannot change!" they shouted, even when Giles didn't. There was a crashing sound through the receiver and then silence, followed by Willow laughing. "Sorry guys. I knocked over the phone. I was spinning."
"You were spinning?"
"Yeah. I dunno. This just seems like a spinning kinda song." She cranked the volume back up and shouted "Lord, knows I can't change!" and the varying volume of her voice indicated she did not quit spinning.
The rest of the tape continued, and they all sat at the speakerphone like some new fangled campfire as Giles continued on. He screwed up a verse in White Room. He was off key during Little Wing. But he sang a very pleasant rendition of Like a Rolling Stone. Eventually, the tape ended with him trying to unplug the amp and cursing mildly. "Well, that's it," his voice said, and the tape stopped rolling. They all sat in silence for a few moments.
"I gotta go," Willow said, her voice breaking the mood. "My phone bill is going to be insane."
"Wil…thank you so much," Buffy said.
"You're very welcome. Call me when you get back, OK?"
"I will," Buffy promised. And for the first time, she meant it.
"Bye!" Everyone shouted into the speaker. Willow hung up.
"I'm beat," Roman said softly. "I think I'm gonna crash."
Everyone murmured variations of the same and slowly staked out their designated sleeping areas in the house. Eventually, only Spike and Buffy were left. They said nothing for awhile. They just sat next to each other on the couch, both of them nursing bottles of New Castle and staring into space. Suddenly Buffy spoke, and the sound of her voice was startling in the silent room. "Sometimes I worry that I've never really had a life," she mused. "That I'm only as interesting as the various tragedies that have befallen me."
"Well, I think that's true of all of us," Spike shrugged.
Buffy seemed to consider that for a bit. "I suppose. But I honestly can't think of a time where I haven't been getting over something or another. I almost feel like I don't know who I am when I'm not grieving. When I don't have my game face on."
"If it's any consolation," Spike said. "It wasn't your game face that intrigued me. Your game face is actually very scary, and you have this vein that pops out on the side of your neck. Very unattractive."
Buffy just stared at him for a minute. "I think your definition of "consolation" is a little off the beaten trail." She said nothing else for awhile, just staring at the wall and sucking on her beer absently. "Spike," Buffy started again timidly. "Why didn't you kill Riley?"
"That's been bothering you, hasn't it?" Spike replied smugly.
"Well…yeah. I mean I am grateful to you. Extremely grateful. Grateful actually doesn't cover it."
"Got the point, Slayer."
"Right. It's just…I don't know how to say this…"
"You're worried that I spared him out of my still burning but misguided passion for you, which you will have to squelch immediately, lest we rehash any ugly scenes."
Buffy stared at him with an amused expression. The two of them seemed to share this psychic link she would never entirely understand. She knew what he was thinking a lot more than she was ever willing to admit. She just liked making him say it out loud. "Um…yeah. Bingo, actually."
Spike chuckled. "Letting Skippy go had little to do with you."
"Then what?"
"I let that idiot live for the same reasons you let me live all these years, and for the same reason you would have opposed mass vampire genocide, poison or no poison." Spike figured he didn't have to elaborate but Buffy's curious stare told him otherwise.
"I didn't kill him, Slayer," he said with observable exasperation. "Because, like you, I live my life according to my own brand of ethics. My rules may not make sense to anyone else, or even apply to anyone else. But they're mine."
Buffy nodded, completely understanding what he meant. Again, she knew that was the real reason. She just always found joy in dragging it out of him, just as he enjoyed explaining her every motive better than she ever could herself. She could never satisfactorily explain to anyone why she let Spike live. Killing him was just wrong. She understood why it was, and that was all that mattered. "But aside from all that, do you think it might have had something to do with your never ending love for me?" she asked just to satisfy her own curiosity. She knew that question was a great way to ruin an otherwise civil moment, but their relationship had always followed a self-destructive path.
Spike rolled his eyes, not wanting to indulge her further. "What do you think?"
"I don't think you ever loved me. I think you were just desperately trying to come up with a name for what we felt…and I guess still feel for one another."
Spike's mouth turned up into that sly, Billy Idol smirk of his. "And what is it, pray tell, that we feel?"
Buffy leaned back into the couch cushion and locked eyes with him for the first time. "They don't have a word for what we are."
His smirk slowly dissolved into a genuine smile, the first real smile she had probably ever seen on his face. "It's good to see you again, Buffy," he said as he raised his beer bottle in a toast.
Buffy clinked it agreeably. "Likewise, William."
The next evening, Buffy watched with nostalgia as Spike attempted to give Ryan some pointers. "You're telegraphing," he told her.
"What does that mean?"
"It means I can see your kicks coming from a mile away."
"Oh," Ryan said dejectedly. She then attempted to kick him unexpectedly in the gut, but he caught her leg and she lost balance and hit the floor. "Telegraphing?" she said meekly.
Spike yanked her back on her feet. "Well, she can be taught."
Buffy thought of Spike's "lesson" with her in the alley, where he had told her what it meant to have a death wish. She never admitted it and would sooner die, but she would never forget that lesson as long as she lived. She felt it gave her an edge, a window to understanding something no other slayer was brave enough to talk about. She felt she learned a lot of stuff you can't find in books from the likes of people like Spike. And Glory. And all the others she ever danced with. Maybe it was selfish to keep that sort of information to herself. And Spike was right. Ryan can be taught. She had a lot of potential. Her reverie was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Buffy," Roman said hoarsely. "It's for you." He then slammed the door shut again and stormed over to the kitchen table.
She got up and apprehensively opened the door. "Hi, Buff," Riley said sheepishly. She stepped out of the apartment and closed the door.
"I don't know what she sees in him," Spike mused as he joined Roman at the table.
"I think it's a maternal thing," Dawn guessed. "She feels the need to save his sorry ass."
"Umph," Spike snorted. "Good luck."
"I quit," Riley declared. "And I filed a report with the bureau. I don't know how effective it will be, but I don't think I have the strength right now to venture off on some Mulder-esque crusade."
Buffy nodded. "I'm glad you quit. Now did you quit because you wanted to or because you thought it would bring us back together?"
"Because I wanted to," Riley said quickly. "If we were to get back together, it would be a fringe benefit," he said smiling. He leaned in and they kissed softly for a few minutes. Buffy heard some rude gagging noises coming from the apartment behind her and for a second considered kicking it up a notch to spite them but then thought better of it.
"Riley," she said, pulling back.
"But that doesn't look like that's gonna happen," Riley said, sulkily.
"I still love you."
Riley perked up. He wasn't expecting that.
"But," she said firmly, and his smile fell. "Love was never the problem. We're in very different places right now. Maybe some day we'll catch up. But not today."
Riley nodded. He knew she was right. "Well, here's hoping." He hugged her. "You meant that figuratively, right? Like I'm not going to wind up hitting you with my car on a street corner in Boston or something, am I?"
Buffy laughed. "I hope not. Once was enough, thanks."
That night they held an official service for Nell. They built a make shift gravestone out of album covers and liner notes. They figured they'd hang it right over the stereo. "She'd probably want her ashes scattered over Madonna's house," Roman mused. "But I don't know where she lives."
That night, they received another phone call from Willow. Spike answered, and the two of them screwed with each other for a bit. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm afraid we ate Buffy this morning. If you like, I can hold the receiver next to my belly and you can shout stuff."
"Gimme the phone," Buffy snatched it from him.
"You're at Spike's?" Willow asked, obviously amused.
"Yeah…it's a very long story."
Willow laughed. "Sounds like a doozy. So how was thwarting evil?"
"Not bad," Buffy shrugged. "I can't say I'm eager to jump back into the business though. I was shot at."
"Hmm. That does seem to be one of the cons. I'm glad I could help, just the same. Listen, I called because I was looking through an old box of shit I found in my closet and I found something I think you and Dawn would want to hear. I would rather not do this over the phone but I didn't think I could wait until I saw you again."
Buffy suddenly became worried. "What is it, Wil?"
"Oh it's nothing bad. I just found a cassette tape. It's marked "Private. For the Love of God Do Not Play."
Buffy laughed a bit in disbelief. "Oh my God. Is that one of Gile's demo's?"
"That's what I'm thinking. I haven't played it yet. I wanted to wait for you."
Buffy felt the threat of tears rising very rapidly in her throat. "I'll uh…put you on speaker. Hey, Dawn! Come here!"
Dawn walked over to the phone as the rest of the house looked on in interest. "Willow has something for us."
There were the clicking sounds of Willow messing with the tape deck, and after a few minutes of idle feedback, Giles' guitar came strumming through the receiver. Dawn put her hand over her mouth and sat down next to Buffy. They were OK, until his voice, fluid and clear, came drifting across space.
~ And if I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me? ~
"Oh my God," Buffy said, laughing as she rubbed a tear from her face. "Lynard Skynard? I'm aghast."
"Shhh…" Willow shushed her, and it was apparent she had started to cry as well.
Dawn scooted over into Buffy's lap and they started rocking in time to the music. Spike, Roman and Davis looked at each other. Though Spike was really the only one who understood what was going on, it was easy to see this was very significant somehow.
"Cause I'm as free as a bird now," Roman suddenly sang along under his breath. Spike and Davis sparked up their lighters and swayed them hypnotically to the rhythm. "And a bird you cannot change."
Roman tried taking the next verse a little louder until Buffy and Dawn noticed. They just smiled at him, so he grinned and belted out the next line at the top of his lungs. "Bye, bye, it's been sweet love. Though this feeling I can't change," The group all sang along rather tunelessly into the night sky, no one particularly on key and no one really knowing all the words. Music is like that. Even if on the surface the song has really no obvious relevance, it somehow manages to give meaning to random acts. Nell wouldn't listen to this song in a million years but somehow the lyrics seemed to fit for them at that second, in that moment. They would always hear this song and think of their fallen friends, of this place in time, and it would help. And even though Nell might have rather slapped on some Depeche Mode, they all knew she would appreciate this little tribute.
~ Please don't take it so badly. Lord, knows that I must play. ~
The rocking section struck up and Dawn started drumming on the kitchen table. As the climax of the song built, so did the general spirits of everyone in the room. It wasn't long before Davis was doing the Phish tour shuffle, Roman and Ryan were doing air guitar around the room and Spike and the Summers girls did their best headbang. "And a bird you cannot change!" they shouted, even when Giles didn't. There was a crashing sound through the receiver and then silence, followed by Willow laughing. "Sorry guys. I knocked over the phone. I was spinning."
"You were spinning?"
"Yeah. I dunno. This just seems like a spinning kinda song." She cranked the volume back up and shouted "Lord, knows I can't change!" and the varying volume of her voice indicated she did not quit spinning.
The rest of the tape continued, and they all sat at the speakerphone like some new fangled campfire as Giles continued on. He screwed up a verse in White Room. He was off key during Little Wing. But he sang a very pleasant rendition of Like a Rolling Stone. Eventually, the tape ended with him trying to unplug the amp and cursing mildly. "Well, that's it," his voice said, and the tape stopped rolling. They all sat in silence for a few moments.
"I gotta go," Willow said, her voice breaking the mood. "My phone bill is going to be insane."
"Wil…thank you so much," Buffy said.
"You're very welcome. Call me when you get back, OK?"
"I will," Buffy promised. And for the first time, she meant it.
"Bye!" Everyone shouted into the speaker. Willow hung up.
"I'm beat," Roman said softly. "I think I'm gonna crash."
Everyone murmured variations of the same and slowly staked out their designated sleeping areas in the house. Eventually, only Spike and Buffy were left. They said nothing for awhile. They just sat next to each other on the couch, both of them nursing bottles of New Castle and staring into space. Suddenly Buffy spoke, and the sound of her voice was startling in the silent room. "Sometimes I worry that I've never really had a life," she mused. "That I'm only as interesting as the various tragedies that have befallen me."
"Well, I think that's true of all of us," Spike shrugged.
Buffy seemed to consider that for a bit. "I suppose. But I honestly can't think of a time where I haven't been getting over something or another. I almost feel like I don't know who I am when I'm not grieving. When I don't have my game face on."
"If it's any consolation," Spike said. "It wasn't your game face that intrigued me. Your game face is actually very scary, and you have this vein that pops out on the side of your neck. Very unattractive."
Buffy just stared at him for a minute. "I think your definition of "consolation" is a little off the beaten trail." She said nothing else for awhile, just staring at the wall and sucking on her beer absently. "Spike," Buffy started again timidly. "Why didn't you kill Riley?"
"That's been bothering you, hasn't it?" Spike replied smugly.
"Well…yeah. I mean I am grateful to you. Extremely grateful. Grateful actually doesn't cover it."
"Got the point, Slayer."
"Right. It's just…I don't know how to say this…"
"You're worried that I spared him out of my still burning but misguided passion for you, which you will have to squelch immediately, lest we rehash any ugly scenes."
Buffy stared at him with an amused expression. The two of them seemed to share this psychic link she would never entirely understand. She knew what he was thinking a lot more than she was ever willing to admit. She just liked making him say it out loud. "Um…yeah. Bingo, actually."
Spike chuckled. "Letting Skippy go had little to do with you."
"Then what?"
"I let that idiot live for the same reasons you let me live all these years, and for the same reason you would have opposed mass vampire genocide, poison or no poison." Spike figured he didn't have to elaborate but Buffy's curious stare told him otherwise.
"I didn't kill him, Slayer," he said with observable exasperation. "Because, like you, I live my life according to my own brand of ethics. My rules may not make sense to anyone else, or even apply to anyone else. But they're mine."
Buffy nodded, completely understanding what he meant. Again, she knew that was the real reason. She just always found joy in dragging it out of him, just as he enjoyed explaining her every motive better than she ever could herself. She could never satisfactorily explain to anyone why she let Spike live. Killing him was just wrong. She understood why it was, and that was all that mattered. "But aside from all that, do you think it might have had something to do with your never ending love for me?" she asked just to satisfy her own curiosity. She knew that question was a great way to ruin an otherwise civil moment, but their relationship had always followed a self-destructive path.
Spike rolled his eyes, not wanting to indulge her further. "What do you think?"
"I don't think you ever loved me. I think you were just desperately trying to come up with a name for what we felt…and I guess still feel for one another."
Spike's mouth turned up into that sly, Billy Idol smirk of his. "And what is it, pray tell, that we feel?"
Buffy leaned back into the couch cushion and locked eyes with him for the first time. "They don't have a word for what we are."
His smirk slowly dissolved into a genuine smile, the first real smile she had probably ever seen on his face. "It's good to see you again, Buffy," he said as he raised his beer bottle in a toast.
Buffy clinked it agreeably. "Likewise, William."
The next evening, Buffy watched with nostalgia as Spike attempted to give Ryan some pointers. "You're telegraphing," he told her.
"What does that mean?"
"It means I can see your kicks coming from a mile away."
"Oh," Ryan said dejectedly. She then attempted to kick him unexpectedly in the gut, but he caught her leg and she lost balance and hit the floor. "Telegraphing?" she said meekly.
Spike yanked her back on her feet. "Well, she can be taught."
Buffy thought of Spike's "lesson" with her in the alley, where he had told her what it meant to have a death wish. She never admitted it and would sooner die, but she would never forget that lesson as long as she lived. She felt it gave her an edge, a window to understanding something no other slayer was brave enough to talk about. She felt she learned a lot of stuff you can't find in books from the likes of people like Spike. And Glory. And all the others she ever danced with. Maybe it was selfish to keep that sort of information to herself. And Spike was right. Ryan can be taught. She had a lot of potential. Her reverie was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Buffy," Roman said hoarsely. "It's for you." He then slammed the door shut again and stormed over to the kitchen table.
She got up and apprehensively opened the door. "Hi, Buff," Riley said sheepishly. She stepped out of the apartment and closed the door.
"I don't know what she sees in him," Spike mused as he joined Roman at the table.
"I think it's a maternal thing," Dawn guessed. "She feels the need to save his sorry ass."
"Umph," Spike snorted. "Good luck."
"I quit," Riley declared. "And I filed a report with the bureau. I don't know how effective it will be, but I don't think I have the strength right now to venture off on some Mulder-esque crusade."
Buffy nodded. "I'm glad you quit. Now did you quit because you wanted to or because you thought it would bring us back together?"
"Because I wanted to," Riley said quickly. "If we were to get back together, it would be a fringe benefit," he said smiling. He leaned in and they kissed softly for a few minutes. Buffy heard some rude gagging noises coming from the apartment behind her and for a second considered kicking it up a notch to spite them but then thought better of it.
"Riley," she said, pulling back.
"But that doesn't look like that's gonna happen," Riley said, sulkily.
"I still love you."
Riley perked up. He wasn't expecting that.
"But," she said firmly, and his smile fell. "Love was never the problem. We're in very different places right now. Maybe some day we'll catch up. But not today."
Riley nodded. He knew she was right. "Well, here's hoping." He hugged her. "You meant that figuratively, right? Like I'm not going to wind up hitting you with my car on a street corner in Boston or something, am I?"
Buffy laughed. "I hope not. Once was enough, thanks."