And Then There Were Three
Chapter Seven: Blue

She settles in quite quickly. She looks around the place a bit. Says it needs a bit of brightening up. Straight talker, I like that. She frowns at my battered telly, according to her, we have to get a nicer one, one that costs a fair bit. Not gonna argue with that one. Tara sits her down on the red couch and makes her a hot chocolate, pressing it into her hands.

"Want to sleep, pet?" I ask, lifting my bare feet onto the coffee table and taking a swig of my blood. "You look just about done in."

"I can't sleep," she says. "I don't understand all this," she looks warily at Tara. "Is this like when Joyce died? Am I not supposed to ask how I get through this?"

"No, no, sweetie," Tara says gently. "When Joyce died, everyone was very upset, they couldn't deal with the questions. That wasn't your fault. And we didn't have the answers, we don't understand either. But this, you can ask, no one will mind."

"I – I don't think it'll ever stop hurting."

"It will," she reassures her. "It hurt so much when Willow and I… And it still does, but when I talked to Spike, it felt better."

"It did?" hope ignites in those brown eyes of hers.

"Yes," Tara brushes Anya's hair back. "All you need to know is that Spike and I will be right here for you, we know how you feel."

"Yeah, love," I agree. "So you can throw a wobbly or not talk to us, we won't run out on you."

She looks me dead in the eye.

"Why do you care?" she asks.

"I -" why do I care? Bloody hell, what's with all the questions? "I... know how it feels. I didn't have anything like you and Xander or Tara and Red, but I get it. That lot, the Scoobies, they've got each other, but I didn't have anyone. So I decided to go see Tara and we've got stuff in common. Then she told me about you and I figured you could do with a friend. Going against my nature, but you and Tara were the only two that were actually halfway decent to me. Owe ya one."

"Thank you," Anya says. "Both of you. I kept expecting Xander to come find me, but he never did. I guessed he really didn't care anymore. At least now I know someone cares."

I swing my legs off the table and stand up, draining my mug. I go to wash it up; the conversation's getting a little too intimate for my taste. Next thing you know, we'll be having group hugs or doing the admissions thing. "My name's Spike and I've got a fatal attraction to a Scooby gang member."

"Do you want any help unpacking?" Tara asks.

"Yes," Anya nods. "That would be appreciated."

"Aren't you two tired?" I ask as I come back into the living room, it's late, figured they'd go to bed.

"I think I'll stay up very late," Anya states. "And decorate my room."

"You've got work," Tara reminds her.

"I know, but I want to settle in. I heard that it's best to make a quick, clean break. I want to make this my home," she frowns at me. "I don't like smoke in the air, Spike."

I laugh and stub it out.

"And it was my idea to have you here?" I ask. "What was I thinking."

Anya looks stunned and she places her mug on the table with a soft clunk.

"What?" she asks.

"What, what?"

"You wanted me here?"

"Yeah," I shrug. "No big d -"she knocks the air I took in to speak out of me as she launches herself at me. Hugging me tightly around the neck. Damn good thing I don't have to breathe. I pat her back awkwardly and look at Tara, waggling my eyebrows to get her to help me. She just leans back and smiles. It doesn't take long for me to realise Anya's sobbing. It's scary. That someone could hurt that much. And I thought I had it bad. Tara moves over to me and rubs her back as I hold her a little more tightly.

The poor bint cried herself to sleep.

Ever noticed how disgusting the smell of paint is? And how satisfying a bloody good sulk is? Not that I'm sulking or anything, 'cause that's downright bloody juvenile and Dawn's already got full membership in the sulkers club. I'm merely silently protesting. And no, I am not pouting. Tara pokes her head around the door of my room and nibbles her lip.

"You still mad?" she asks.

"Mad?" I glance at her, looking suitably uninterested in her obvious discomfort. "Why would I be mad about you painting my room the poncyest shade of blue imaginable? In case you forgot, I happen to be Spike, the Big Bad. I'm not Angel, whipped puppy and lover of all things poofy."

Why the little cow! She's bloody giggling! Well, ok, trying not to giggle, but she's not very successful.

"I'm sorry, Spike," she sits on the end of my bed and for some insane, Wiccan reason, starts fiddling with the ankle of my pants, twisting the fabric in her fingers. "Anya and I thought it would be nice for you."

"Nice?" I snort. "To wake up to the nauseating smell of fresh paint? Which, by the way, gives me a headache, and it's the ugliest shade of blue."

I glare at the walls. I suppose it could have been worse. If Dru had been 'ere, she probably would've likened the colour to the shade of night just before full darkness falls. But then again, Dru would've eaten Tara and Anya and used their entrails to decorate the rest of the room so her's is not exactly the most reliable opinion. And she isn't here. I guess they could've painted it powder blue or pink or something disgusting.

"Why couldn't you paint them red?" I ask. "Or black?"

"Because we're painting the living room red and black's just depressing, you wear enough black as it is. It can't be good for you."

"I'm a vampire," I tell her. "I love red and black, they're the official colours of my breed."

"Oh, Spike," she flicks her finger against my big toe. "If you want us to change the colour, we will."

"And have to smell this crap for another week? You've got to be kidding me!"

"It's like living with a two year old," she mutters.

I jerk my foot away from her warm little fingers, fold up arms across my chest and glare at her.

"Vampire hearing," I remind her. "I heard that. And I'm not acting like a two year old! I'm one hundred and twenty six; I've got years on you! Respect your elders, missy!"

She laughing again, doubled over and laughing her pretty little head off. And there it is again. Haven't thought of her as beautiful since that night I stayed at hers before moving here. And that was a week ago. But she is, y'know, beautiful I mean and when she's laughing it's even more obvious.

She's gasping for breath and pressing her hand to her chest to regain her composure. Bloody hell. Shouldn't think about her like that. She's my roommate, friend and she's gay. Really must remember she's gay. I mean, I know I'm gorgeous, I don't have a reflection or anything but Dru liked to play with cameras when they first came out and she liked to take pictures of her Spike. So I do remember what I look like, but I don't think the sight of my naked manly good looks will turn Tara straight. I'm a lot of things but delusional I am not, couldn't be when I had to be the sane one out of the dynamic duo that was Drusilla and I. Tara's frowning at me.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Eh?"

"You. You have think face, what's behind the think face?"

"Thoughts," I hedge. What can I say? Well, Tara, I was thinking 'bout how gorgeous you are and how much I'd really like to screw you. Say, Anya's in her room, wanna go a round or two? Can't really see her leaping into my arms with gallons of enthusiasm, so I hedge a little more. "Thinking 'bout Dru and me. And how you owe me one for painting my room this offensive colour."

She rolls her eyes and twists slightly on the bed. She draws her feet up under her and takes my bare feet into her lap.

"Will a foot rub make up for it?" she asks almost shyly.

"It'll do for now," I answer and she begins to knead my feet gently. Feels nice this does, relaxing.

"You have pretty feet," she says and I grunt; pretty feet, my arse! She blushes a little. "Tell me about you and Drusilla."

"I don't think you'd want to hear about that, Glinda."

"You could leave out all the gory bits and PG the stories," she urges. "Please? I want to hear about your time before I knew you, before you came to Sunnydale."

Well, if the girl's givin' me the best foot rub I've ever had, I might as well tell her. She looks interested as I tell her. This isn't like the time I told Bit about the coal bin, and this isn't like the bull I fed Buffy about my human life and my "gang." I give her the truth. Tell her what a pansy I was, what an arsehole Angelus was, what a bitch queen Darla was and how much I loved Drusilla.

"Do you miss it?" she asks. "Being with Drusilla, Angelus and Darla?"

I open my mouth to tell her that no way would I go back to having to do whatever Angelus and Darla told me, wouldn't go back to watching Angelus toy with Drusilla. But instead I gave her the truth.

"Yeah," I answer quietly. "It was crap. I had to do whatever Angelus told me, listen to Darla moan about me and look after Dru when Angelus decided he didn't want to play with her anymore, but they were my… family, y'know. However much I hated 'em, they were the ones that were there."

"I know what you mean," she answers quietly and pauses in her foot rub. "My family… I didn't like how they treated me but they were my family."

"You can pick your nose but you can't pick your family," I shrug and nudge her knee to remind her she still had making up to do.

"Spike!" she scolds with a smile. She gives my feet a final squeeze then stands up and walks to the door. "Spike?" this time my name's a question.

"Yeah, love?"

"You punched me that time on the nose, remember?" she touches her nose then, rubbing it lightly.

"I remember," I reply.

"Thanks," she says.

"You what?" I ask, genuinely surprised. "You're thanking me for nearly breaking your nose?"

"Yes," she frowns like she can't believe it either. "But if you hadn't done it, I would have still thought I was a demon. And you said you didn't care what happened, but you did it anyway."

"No need to thank me," I shrug but I'm quite pleased that she doesn't hold that against me.

"I've got that paper to work on," she tells me. "I just hope Anya doesn't disturb me."

"Still?" I ask incredulously. "You've been working on that since we moved here."

"It's important," she shrugs.

"There are more important things."

"I know."

I smile as she leaves. I really like her. Really.