Becoming
Me:
Past All Reality
By Evangeline
Thought I should add more to this. I like
this series so much, tho I'm not exactly sure the readers do. Oh
well.
***Okay guys, haha, I think my lack of sleep resulted in a mixing
up of Buffy's job. I fixed it. Don't worry. It's the post office
now again .... :)
***
"Have a nice day," Buffy smiled at her customer. The job was definitely so much better than her slave job at the DMP. Although she hated to admit it, Spike was right. That job was just not for her.
It had been a good month and a half since she had started working at the post office. The bills were slowly being paid off, partially thanks to Dawn's vignette as well as Willow's moving out. She was also able to spend more time with Dawn and Willow both. Willow was getting better, taking it one day at a time, just like Buffy. Xander was slowly mending his relationship with Anya, taking more time to live their lives. The wedding would wait for a very long while.
And Spike. God, Spike. She hadn't seen him since that day on the porch. She winced lightly at the memory of his charred crypt. Had he found somewhere else to live? Or had he left altogether?
She was pulled from her thoughts as another customer approached her desk. Putting on a smile, she started the process all over again.
***
Buffy slung her purse over her shoulder, pulling out her keys. "I'm gonna head home!" she called towards Lourdes, her manager.
The aging Filipino woman smiled kindly at Buffy. "I want you to take care. Sunnydale is a very dangerous place at night."
Buffy grinned in response. "Don't I know." She had taken a double shift that night at Dawn's insistence. Overtime pay was quite nice.
"I have something for you, child," Lourdes called her over.
"Yes, Auntie?" Buffy approached the woman, having learned the Filipino show of respect.
Lourdes produced a small crucifix on a string of beads.
"A cross?" Buffy asked, eyebrows raised. "I have lots of those."
"A rosary," she clarified. "Please wear it when you walk home at night. I worry for you."
Buffy smiled. Lourdes reminded her so much of her own mother. Accepting the gift, Buffy replied, "Thank you, Auntie." She smiled, "I'll see you tomorrow morning."
Pulling the door to the post office closed behind her, she wrapped the beads around her hand. She had a stake tightly in her other hand but stared up absently at the stars. The balls of light twinkled white and yellow against the velvet blue blanket of a sky. They hovered ominously over Earth, almost as if protecting its inhabitants.
Her gaze was drawn back to the rosary in her hands. Black polished beads gave way to a medium-sized cross with Jesus Christ stretched across the holy symbol. Lourdes was a devout Roman Catholic and had explained the rosary and common prayers to her over several lunch breaks at Buffy's insistence. Such fierce loyalty to such a God was incredible. People have always needed someone to worship and believe in. Lines from the 'Our Father,' 'Hail Mary,' and 'Glory Be' flew through her mind. People had been worshipping the Holy Trinity for thousands of years, people the slayers protected. How would they understand the truth? That the monsters that go bump in the night are real? They were on the mark, however, with their version of the afterlife. It was something worth fighting for. Turning the beads lightly in her fingers, she recited the 'Hail Mary' silently, feeling a peace and serenity settle over her body and spirit with every word.
***
Dawn glanced over the top of her cards at Spike. She had invited him over to play a game of poker with her, taking advantage of Buffy's double shift.
"So watcha got?" Dawn asked, grinning over her good hand.
"Full house," Spike answered, setting his cards on the coffee table in front of him. "You?"
"Beat you again," Dawn grinned widely. "Royal flush," and she displayed the ten through Ace of hearts.
"How the hell does she do that?" Spike asked himself, incredulous. "I swear, I wouldn't be surprised if she was cheating."
She smiled, her grin reaching from ear to ear. "Just be glad we're not playing for money."
"Enter anything else?" Spike asked, changing the topic.
"Actually, yeah," Dawn answered. "A couple things. I got a letter back for one of them already," she mused. "Just today." Reaching into the desk drawer, she produced another check for $750. "Want to hear it?"
"Sure," Spike answered. "But then I've got to be on my way."
"Cool," Dawn answered. Reaching back over to the desk, she plucked a notebook off the top and flipped furiously to the right page. "Here we go. This time, it's a poem. It's titled, "Past All Reality,"" she cleared her throat. "We lie in that other darkness, ourselves / Where the eerie crescent moon casts dark shadows across the room through the small window; / Where the crow calls coldly, fear and anxiety hanging in the air, a bad omen sure to fulfill itself; / Where breathing is constricted and the heart pulses fast and erratically; / Where the air freezes, a small cloud forming on contact with a warm exhalation; / Where all senses are on alert, but the mind vainly attempts to convince itself otherwise; / Where the eyes search wildly, certain something or someone is watching, hidden; / Where the demons and imps come out to play, slowly tearing away at all truth, all hope; / Where all light is non-existent and terror reigns supreme; / Where all reality slowly drifts form our minds and bodies; / Where sanity is swallowed not by demons but by the very mind of the believer. / We lie in that other darkness."
Spike grinned. "Speaking from personal experience?"
"This is the Hellmouth and I'm a thousand year old mystical key. What do you think?" Dawn returned his smile.
"As much as I love spending time with you," Spike glanced at the clock, "it's late." He gestured to the time, midnight. "You need to sleep."
"It's Friday, Spike!" She pleaded, tugging at the black leather of his coat. "Please "
"Actually, he's right," a voice interrupted from the kitchen. Buffy had entered through the back door much to Dawn's dismay. "What is Spike doing here?" she asked Dawn irately.
"He just came to keep me company," Dawn immediately jumped to his defense. "I called him and asked him to come over."
"Wait," Buffy frowned. "Since when does Spike have a phone?"
"Since he moved because some bitch blew up his cr-"
"Enough!" Buffy cut in. "Good night, Spike. You can show yourself out."
Spike didn't meet her eyes. "Right then. I'll see you later. Sweet dreams, Bit," he kissed her on the forehead.
Dawn stared at the door for several seconds after he left. She swung her eyes back to Buffy. "Why do you treat him like that, Buffy?"
"What?" Buffy asked, surprised.
"You heard me," Dawn glared. "He loved you so much and you treat him like crap."
"There are so many things you have no idea about," Buffy sighed, setting her bag down on the floor and sinking into the soft armchair. "Things between Spike and me are complicated. You wouldn't understand."
Dawn looked confused but still ventured further. "Try me."
Buffy looked up. Should she tell Dawn? She bit her lip. It would be best to tell her sister first and not have her find out from somewhere else. "Spike and I had a a relationship, I guess, for a while."
Dawn sat on the sofa. "What type of relationship?"
"It wasn't healthy, that's for sure," Buffy allowed. "We both hurt each other very much." She frowned. "Or at least I hurt him very much."
"So you guys were really together, huh? Why'd you break up, then?"
Buffy shook her head. "It was wrong. I was using him and " she trailed off.
"You can't get past the fact that he's a vampire," Dawn said accusingly. "He worships the ground you walk on and you think he's nothing more than an evil thing!"
"It's so much more than that, Dawnie," Buffy said almost pleadingly. "With Angel-"
"Angel's gone, Buffy!" Dawn interrupted. "Gone! And Spike's still here!" Then she quieted. "Maybe God or the Powers or whoever wants us to meet a few wrong people before meeting the right one so when we finally meet that person, we'll know how to be grateful."
Buffy considered her sister, her head tilted at a slight angle. "When did you get so smart?"
"I've always been smart, you just haven't noticed," Dawn wrote it off with a grin.
Buffy sighed. "I promise to try to fix things with Spike, but that doesn't mean we're getting back together."
"I know," Dawn agreed. "Do you wanna go see him at his place tomorrow?" Dawn asked hopefully. "It's Saturday so I don't have school and you don't have work," she prompted. "Please?"
"I guess," she looked up. "So Spike's got a new place?"
***
Dawn knocked on the heavy maroon colored door, shutting the screen door back over, hoping desperately that Spike was home as Buffy nervously surveyed the area.
"Door's unlocked," a voice called through the door after several seconds.
Dawn grinned, letting herself into the small apartment, pulling Buffy in by the sleeve. Locking the door behind her, she called out, "Spike?"
"In here, Nibblet," Spike answered from the next room.
They walked into the adjoining room to see Spike sitting in the same old arm chair, sipping from a warm mug of blood, his attention focused on the same small television set. "Hey Nibblet, Slayer," he greeted, never removing his gaze from the tv.
"Hi Spike," Dawn returned enthusiastically, dropping onto the sofa.
"Hi," Buffy added kindly. "How's the new place?" She hesitantly took a seat next to Dawn.
"'s ok, I guess," he answered offhandedly.
"Passions?" Dawn questioned, referring to the tv. "Is it a rerun?"
Spike nodded, scowling. "I miss a week of it and when my telly is finally set up, they show a bloody rerun!"
As Spike and Dawn chattered on about the stupid soap opera, she looked curiously about the room. The walls were bare except for a small clock near the door. Glancing down, she saw a red oriental rug. She remembered the dozens of rugs that once coated the floor of his crypt and felt a wave of guilt wash over her.
"I'm sorry, Spike," she blurted out.
Two surprised faces veered quickly in her direction.
"I'm sorry about your crypt."
Dawn hurriedly stood. "I'm going to use your bathroom."
They stared silently at one another until they heard the lock snap on the bathroom door.
Sighing, Spike flipped the television off. "Cheeky brat," he muttered to himself.
Buffy bit her lip. "I'm sorry," she repeated.
Spike shrugged. "Should've known better."
"You never did explain what you were doing with those eggs."
"I told you already," he protested. "I was holding them for a friend." He took a swig from the mug on the coffee table. "For some money."
"Why do you need money?" Buffy asked, confused.
"I didn't need money, Slayer," he answered. "You did though."
"Oh," Buffy replied lightly. She fiddled with her hands in her lap. "I hate this," she whispered to herself.
"You're not the only one," Spike muttered in return. "What are you doing here?" he asked suddenly.
Buffy opened her mouth as if to respond but shrugged instead. "I hate what's happening," she allowed. "I liked what we were, before everything," she elaborated. "We were becoming friends."
"We can't ever be friends, Slayer. Haven't you figured that out yet?" Spike glared.
"I know," Buffy answered, lightly picking at her nail polish. "But can't we at least try, for Dawn?"
Spike was slow in answering. He looked everywhere but her, his hands fiddling with his mug. "For Dawn," he agreed.
Buffy nodded as she glanced once more around the room. "This is all you could save?"
Spike shrugged, surprised at her eagerness to start a conversation with him. "I just grabbed whatever looked salvageable. Didn't really care about half of the stuff in there."
"You plan on staying here long?"
"I think so."
"You could invite the girls over. I'm sure they'd love decorating with you."
Spike lifted his eyes to hers curiously. Then he allowed a small smile to grace his face, not his usual smirk but a real earnest smile. "I'd like that."
The lock to the bathroom popped and their heads shot towards the sound.
Turning back, Spike considered her silently. "I still love you," he told her quietly.
Buffy smiled softly. "I know."
***
Short, but I was writing this at 4 in the morning, so no whining! The poem, "Past All Reality," is written by none other than me!! It's one of my more interesting works. And Lourdes is based on my grandmother, sweet lady! God rest her soul ... Please review!
xoxo
Eva
