Spike glanced over at the girl curled up on the seat beside him. She was
wrapped up in his duster, sleeping soundly. Had he not been able to hear
her heartbeat, he would have sworn she was dead. He'd never met anyone who
could sleep as much as that girl. It had been nearly a three day nonstop
drive to get this far, and she had slept for nearly the entire trip.
Reaching over, he draped an arm across her chest, holding her back against
the seat as he pressed the gas pedal down.
"What are you doing?" She whined, stirring slightly.
"Just hold on." He said simply, eyes locked on the road ahead.
Yawning, she craned her neck over his arm to get a better look out the blacked out window. "What are you..." She was silenced as they plowed through the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign. The car skidded to a halt. She looked back over her seat at the demolished sign before turning back to him, eyebrows raised in question.
"Welcome to the Hellmouth, kiddo."
----------
"Dawn?" Buffy pulled her keys from the door and kicked it closed with her foot as she walked in. Walking into the kitchen, she found a quickly scribbled note on the counter.
'Went to the Bronze with Will, home by midnight.
Dawn'
Buffy smiled slighty at the messy heart that had been scrawled abover her sister's name. Sighing, she crumbled the piece of paper and tossed it into the trash before making her way to the refrigerator for something to eat. She settled on some leftover pizza, muching on a piece as she pulled it from the box and neglected to heat it. Taking another bite, she made her way upstairs and into her room. Pulling some boxers and a t-shirt from her dresser, she slipped out of her jeans and tanktop and swapped to the much more comfortable outfit.
Her eyes shot to her window, catching a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye. Taking the last bite of her dinner, she walked over and pulled the window up, looking down at the street below. She was losing it. Every now and then her mind played tricks on her and she'd think she'd seen a glimpse of his white-blonde locks, the faint glow of his cigarette, or even the black swirl of his leather duster, although the last was rather impossible seeing as Dawn had thrown his jacket out after his first month's absence. Sighing, she shook her head and closed the window.
Making her way back downstairs, she absently pulled her hair into a sloppy ponytail and went back into the kitchen to clean the heaps of dishes that had accumulated in the sink. Her thoughts went back to the vampire and she sighed, feeling a familiar itch behind her eyes. She never let it become anymore than that, a slight wetness, maybe, but never any tears. It had been over three years and she hadn't cried once for the absent vampire.
Although she had come pretty damn close.
Sniffling, she took to scrubbing the dishes, trying to draw her mind away from the vampire. As usual, even a physical distraction did nothing to interupt her train of thought. She had long given up on being mad at him, although nothing on the face of the planet could make her admit that to anyone other than herself. The way she saw it, she had fueled what had happened between them, putting her just as much at fault as him.
Sure, she had spent the first couple months hating him, but in the months that followed the anger had faded and an understanding as to what he did and why he had left set in. Even though she hated to admit it, she missed him. The relationship they shared, if that's what you could call it, was dark. She knew that. It was twisted, dark, and in every aspect just plain wrong.
But there were also those times when he had come by, not looking for some bump-and-grind action, but just to talk, to see how she was doing, to make sure Dawn was okay. Sometimes she'd sit out back on the porch to think, only to be slightly disappointed when he didn't show up to ask how she was. It was silly, she knew. What reason did he have to come back? She had made it pretty clear that she didn't want him around, and even after what happened, she regretted it.
Rinsing off her hands and rubbing them dry, she tossed the dishtowel on the counter and walked over to the back door. Walking out into the cool night air, she wrapped her arms across her chest and sat down, her eyes scanning the shadows. She knew he wasn't coming back, but it never hurt to hope, right?
Wrong.
Everyday a little piece of her spirit was chipped away, stolen by the lost hope that he would ever come back. There was no closure in what had occured between them, it had just stopped in the middle - no ending. Thinking about it was tearing her apart. She wished she knew where he was, what he was doing. Hell, she didn't even know if he was even alive and that notion was enough to make her keep faith that he would return someday, just so she would know he was okay and so she could say she was sorry.
She snorted. It had been three years and the lack of closure in their relationship still bothered her to no end. "Never a night of peace..." She thought outloud, kicking a small twig off of the step. It landed in the grass, followed by a glowing cigarette butt.
Wait, what?
"Slayer."
Her eyes went wide and she looked up slowly, dreading the fact that this was most likely a new form of torture her mind had come up with. The black Doc Martens, the worn black jeans, the tight fitting black tee, the worn leather duster, the cocky gin... She leapt to her feet. "Spike?!"
Seeing her shocked expression and the hopeful glint in her eyes was enough to mealt his unbeating heart. He smiled, tilting his head to the side. "Hey luv."
"Spike?" She asked again, her voice soft as she walked up to him, her eyes wide in disbelief, slightly teary.
Spike's smile faded slightly as her hand snaked up to the side of his face. He shifted nervously under her touch, unsure what to expect. Perhaps a fist to the nose? Seemed probable...
"Oh God..."
Now that wasn't what he was expecting. Buffy had wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly as she rested her chin on his shoulder. It took him a moment to get over the shock before he ackwardly returned the hug.
"Where the Hell have you been?" she whispered into his ear, her eyes clenched shut.
"It's a long story." He replied, reluctant to let her go as she pulled away. "I guess we should..." Her fist slammed into his nose, causing him to stumble backwards. "Ow! Bloody Hell!"
Buffy was able to look pissed off for about two seconds before she flinched, relief washing over her. He wasn't dead and he was here. Her hand went to her mouth as if she was shocked by what she had just done. "Oh God, I'm sorry."
He made face, wiping away the blood now flowing from his nose. "S'alirght, pet. Guess I had that comin' t'me..."
Buffy cringed, pulling his hand away and inspecting her handywork. "God, I'm sorry..." She muttered once more.
"Don't worry 'bout it, it never slowed me down before."
She gave him a grim smile, her eyes falling. "Yeah, guess not..."
Sighing, the vampire ran his hand through his hair. "Look, I know you're prob'ly 'spectin' some big appology speel, and b'lieve me, you deserve it, but I don't really can't do that right now."
Buffy's face fell.
Spike mentally kicked himself. "No. No, I din't mean it like that. I mean I don't have time. Look, Buffy, there's a nasty demon on it's way here and if we don't find a way to kill it fast there's gonna be a lot of bodies to clean up."
"So you only came back because of a demon..." She stated coldly, shaking her head and looking up at the sky.
"Well, yeah, sort of." He muttered before sighing, taking note of her hurt expression. "I missed you, Slayer. I missed you more than you could ever imagine, but I couldn't come back, it wasn't fair t'you."
"And taking off without a goodbye was fair play?" She demanded, her features suddenly becoming stern.
Spike groaned. "No, it wasn't. And neither was what happened 'fore I left. I screwed everything up, I know that, but now's really not the time. I promise you, we kill this demon and I'll stick around s'long as you want and we can talk, 'right?"
"Yeah..." The Slayer mumbled, nodding her head slightly. "Uh, come on, I'll get you some ice for that..." She said quietly, making a vague motion to his bleeding nose.
"Um, Buffy..." Spike said, stopping right outside the door.
Buffy turned to look at him as she threw some ice cubes into a ziploc bag. "Your invite still stands, if that's what you're wondering..." she said softly, closing the freezer.
"No, it's not..."
"Spike?"
The vampire turned to find Hope standing on the bottom step, her left eyebrow raised. Yep, you could tell she had lived with him for the past three years, she had picked up on most of his mannerisms and even held a colorful array of British curses. He held out his arm and the girl walked up to him. Putting a hand on her shoulder, he turned back to the confused Slayer standing inside the doorway. He sighed. "Buffy, this is Hope."
"Uh, hi." Buffy mumbled, giving the girl an odd look before looking back up at Spike, confusion etched on her features.
Running his hand over the back of his neck, Spike continued. "I've been takin' care of the girl for the past three years. Lookin' after her and protectin' her and the like. Well, not so much with the protectin', more like training."
"Training?" Buffy questioned, looking even more confused than she had moments before.
"Yeah, Slayer. She's a.... Slayer." He explained, cursing the limited vocabulary terms used to identify a 'Slayer'. Rolling his eyes, he looked back at Buffy. "Right pet, me and you are gonna have t'start goin' on a first name basis. Havin' two of you 'round is just bloody confusing."
Buffy didn't seem to hear him. She was staring wide eyed at the small girl standing at his side, decked out in some worn jeans and an orange hoodie. "You're a..."
Hope gave her a smile and shrugged. "I guess I was supposed to be your replacement, but that whole not-staying-dead issue kinda screwed things up."
Buffy just shook her head slightly and looked back up at Spike, who still had blood running from his nose. "Oh, uh, here." She handed him the makeshift icepack and stood to the side so they could walk in. Buffy gave Hope an odd look as she walked by before turning back to Spike, disbelief evident in her eyes.
Spike gave her a small smile, understanding - she couldn't believe how young the girl was. "She just turned fourteen a few months ago."
"Fourteen?" Buffy sputtered, shocked. Her eyes went back to the girl, who was standing with her arms crossed over her stomach. Suddenly Buffy felt very guilty about dying, given, had she not died everyone else on the face of the planet would have, but still. This girl, no, this child, was called to replace her. "She's so little..." She whispered, thinking outloud.
"Don't let 'er fool you. She might be small, but she packs a punch that could knock an elephant on it's arse." Spike assured her, trying to break the grim mood, but Buffy still looked lost. He sighed. "Look, luv, as much as I'd love to go into details, that demon isn't gonna sit 'round an' wait for us t'get out lives sorted out."
"He's right. I mean, I've heard like two sentences about the thing and I already don't like it." Hope added with a shrug.
Buffy sighed. "Yeah, demon..." She muttered, shaking her head slightly. "Come on, we'll go sit down."
Spike nodded, following her into the living room. "Ever hear of Glasya?" He asked, taking a seat on the couch.
"No." Buffy answered simply, having perched herself ontop of the coffee table. She watched as Hope sat down next to the vampire and stuck her hand into his coat pocket, pulling out a pack of gum.
"Want a piece?" She asked, looking over at the older Slayer as she shoved a piece in her mouth.
"No thanks..." Buffy muttered, not taking her eyes off of Spike. Something wasn't right. There was something about the vampire that shouldn't be there... "Spike, how the Hell did you get your coat?!" she snapped. "Dawn got rid of that thing years ago."
Spike smirked. "She sent it to me."
Buffy shot up from her seat and glared at him. "She knew where you were?!"
"Look, I sent the girl a letter from a friend's place to tell her I was sorry. I told her that if she wanted to write back, she had about two weeks to send a letter before I left there. She sent the jacket instead."
"So you wrote her but not me?" Buffy snapped. Spike shot up from his seat, annoyed. Hope just looked between the two, not saying a word.
"I didn't leave because of her, Slayer. I needed her t'know that." He said defensively. "I needed her t'know I was sorry."
"But you left because of me." She said flatly, her eyes cold. "So no need for appologies, right?"
"I left because of -me-, because of what I was doing to you. I was killing you, Buffy. You said it yourself."
"And leaving was supposed to make it better? Because it didn't." She barked, dropping her eyes to the ground. "It didn't..."
Spike closed his eyes, clenching his jaw as he ran his hand over his face. "I didn't come here lookin' for forgivness, luv. I don't deserve it, I know that. And you have ev'ry right to be pissed off after what I pulled, but can we just forget that for a bit and focus on the more prominent problem?"
"Fine." She spat. "I'm going to go change. We'll go get Dawn and Willow from the Bronze and head over to the shop. Something tells me tonights gonna be dubbed an official research night."
Spike nodded and sat back down, watching as she walked towards the stairs. She halted, but didn't look back. "And I'm pretty sure our fucked up relationship qualifies as a prominent problem." She shot hatefully before pounding upstairs.
Spike didn't move.
Hope stared at him curiously, noting the pained look in his eyes. She hadn't seen that there in years. It had been there when she met him, and she never questioned what made him so miserable, but eventually it went away. Before now she had had no clue as to what had hurt him, but now there was no doubt in her mind as to what it was.
Buffy.
She watched as he fell back into the cushions of the couch, closing his eyes. Sighing, she crawled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked quietly.
"Tell you what?" He asked, sounding miserable.
Hope remained quiet for a moment, unsure whether or not she actually wanted to answer the quesstion. "...that you love her."
Spike opened his eyes and blinked. "I never said..."
"...you don't have to." She cut in. "You'd have to be blind not to see it, and even then..." She stopped and sat up, looking the confused vampire in the eye. "I have no idea what you two were talking about, about what happened between you. Before now I thought you two had been friends, like you and me, but the way you talk to her... you can just tell, Spike."
----------
Buffy shifted through the clothes in her closet, looking for something to wear. Her face held a hateful scowl, but inside she was relieved that Spike was home. Sure, he had been here for all of ten minutes and had already managed to piss her off, but that was just Spike. To be honest she actually missed their bickering. Pulling out a pink peasant shirt, she scowled and tossed it to the floor. She must have thrown half the clothes in her closet to the floor before she realised what she was doing and stomped her foot in frustration.
"Dammit." She muttered, running her hand over her eyes. Why did she care what she wore? I mean, they were going to research some demon, it wasn't like they were going on a date or something. She cursed herself for being so self-concious around the vampire and snatched up a pair of dark colored jeans and a plain white tee that she had previously discarded. She changed quickly and grabbed her black leather jacket from the back of a chair as she stormed out of the room.
Pulling her arm into the jacket as she decended the stairs, she pulled her hair out of the back and looked over at the couch. She froze. Hope was curled up against the vampire, her head resting comfortably on his arm. Buffy couldn't believe how peacfeul she looked. A Slayer, a Slayer who trusted William the Bloody completely and wholely, not questioning the fact that he was monster, she obviously didn't care. Unlike her. Looking up, she gave Buffy a small smile before standing. Grabbing Spike's hand, she pulled him from the couch and led him towards the door.
Buffy gave Hope a small smile as she walked past and out the front door, but her smile faded as Spike walked by, giving her a wary look. Rolling her eyes, she followed them out the door, slamming it roughly behind her.
"What are you doing?" She whined, stirring slightly.
"Just hold on." He said simply, eyes locked on the road ahead.
Yawning, she craned her neck over his arm to get a better look out the blacked out window. "What are you..." She was silenced as they plowed through the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign. The car skidded to a halt. She looked back over her seat at the demolished sign before turning back to him, eyebrows raised in question.
"Welcome to the Hellmouth, kiddo."
----------
"Dawn?" Buffy pulled her keys from the door and kicked it closed with her foot as she walked in. Walking into the kitchen, she found a quickly scribbled note on the counter.
'Went to the Bronze with Will, home by midnight.
Dawn'
Buffy smiled slighty at the messy heart that had been scrawled abover her sister's name. Sighing, she crumbled the piece of paper and tossed it into the trash before making her way to the refrigerator for something to eat. She settled on some leftover pizza, muching on a piece as she pulled it from the box and neglected to heat it. Taking another bite, she made her way upstairs and into her room. Pulling some boxers and a t-shirt from her dresser, she slipped out of her jeans and tanktop and swapped to the much more comfortable outfit.
Her eyes shot to her window, catching a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye. Taking the last bite of her dinner, she walked over and pulled the window up, looking down at the street below. She was losing it. Every now and then her mind played tricks on her and she'd think she'd seen a glimpse of his white-blonde locks, the faint glow of his cigarette, or even the black swirl of his leather duster, although the last was rather impossible seeing as Dawn had thrown his jacket out after his first month's absence. Sighing, she shook her head and closed the window.
Making her way back downstairs, she absently pulled her hair into a sloppy ponytail and went back into the kitchen to clean the heaps of dishes that had accumulated in the sink. Her thoughts went back to the vampire and she sighed, feeling a familiar itch behind her eyes. She never let it become anymore than that, a slight wetness, maybe, but never any tears. It had been over three years and she hadn't cried once for the absent vampire.
Although she had come pretty damn close.
Sniffling, she took to scrubbing the dishes, trying to draw her mind away from the vampire. As usual, even a physical distraction did nothing to interupt her train of thought. She had long given up on being mad at him, although nothing on the face of the planet could make her admit that to anyone other than herself. The way she saw it, she had fueled what had happened between them, putting her just as much at fault as him.
Sure, she had spent the first couple months hating him, but in the months that followed the anger had faded and an understanding as to what he did and why he had left set in. Even though she hated to admit it, she missed him. The relationship they shared, if that's what you could call it, was dark. She knew that. It was twisted, dark, and in every aspect just plain wrong.
But there were also those times when he had come by, not looking for some bump-and-grind action, but just to talk, to see how she was doing, to make sure Dawn was okay. Sometimes she'd sit out back on the porch to think, only to be slightly disappointed when he didn't show up to ask how she was. It was silly, she knew. What reason did he have to come back? She had made it pretty clear that she didn't want him around, and even after what happened, she regretted it.
Rinsing off her hands and rubbing them dry, she tossed the dishtowel on the counter and walked over to the back door. Walking out into the cool night air, she wrapped her arms across her chest and sat down, her eyes scanning the shadows. She knew he wasn't coming back, but it never hurt to hope, right?
Wrong.
Everyday a little piece of her spirit was chipped away, stolen by the lost hope that he would ever come back. There was no closure in what had occured between them, it had just stopped in the middle - no ending. Thinking about it was tearing her apart. She wished she knew where he was, what he was doing. Hell, she didn't even know if he was even alive and that notion was enough to make her keep faith that he would return someday, just so she would know he was okay and so she could say she was sorry.
She snorted. It had been three years and the lack of closure in their relationship still bothered her to no end. "Never a night of peace..." She thought outloud, kicking a small twig off of the step. It landed in the grass, followed by a glowing cigarette butt.
Wait, what?
"Slayer."
Her eyes went wide and she looked up slowly, dreading the fact that this was most likely a new form of torture her mind had come up with. The black Doc Martens, the worn black jeans, the tight fitting black tee, the worn leather duster, the cocky gin... She leapt to her feet. "Spike?!"
Seeing her shocked expression and the hopeful glint in her eyes was enough to mealt his unbeating heart. He smiled, tilting his head to the side. "Hey luv."
"Spike?" She asked again, her voice soft as she walked up to him, her eyes wide in disbelief, slightly teary.
Spike's smile faded slightly as her hand snaked up to the side of his face. He shifted nervously under her touch, unsure what to expect. Perhaps a fist to the nose? Seemed probable...
"Oh God..."
Now that wasn't what he was expecting. Buffy had wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly as she rested her chin on his shoulder. It took him a moment to get over the shock before he ackwardly returned the hug.
"Where the Hell have you been?" she whispered into his ear, her eyes clenched shut.
"It's a long story." He replied, reluctant to let her go as she pulled away. "I guess we should..." Her fist slammed into his nose, causing him to stumble backwards. "Ow! Bloody Hell!"
Buffy was able to look pissed off for about two seconds before she flinched, relief washing over her. He wasn't dead and he was here. Her hand went to her mouth as if she was shocked by what she had just done. "Oh God, I'm sorry."
He made face, wiping away the blood now flowing from his nose. "S'alirght, pet. Guess I had that comin' t'me..."
Buffy cringed, pulling his hand away and inspecting her handywork. "God, I'm sorry..." She muttered once more.
"Don't worry 'bout it, it never slowed me down before."
She gave him a grim smile, her eyes falling. "Yeah, guess not..."
Sighing, the vampire ran his hand through his hair. "Look, I know you're prob'ly 'spectin' some big appology speel, and b'lieve me, you deserve it, but I don't really can't do that right now."
Buffy's face fell.
Spike mentally kicked himself. "No. No, I din't mean it like that. I mean I don't have time. Look, Buffy, there's a nasty demon on it's way here and if we don't find a way to kill it fast there's gonna be a lot of bodies to clean up."
"So you only came back because of a demon..." She stated coldly, shaking her head and looking up at the sky.
"Well, yeah, sort of." He muttered before sighing, taking note of her hurt expression. "I missed you, Slayer. I missed you more than you could ever imagine, but I couldn't come back, it wasn't fair t'you."
"And taking off without a goodbye was fair play?" She demanded, her features suddenly becoming stern.
Spike groaned. "No, it wasn't. And neither was what happened 'fore I left. I screwed everything up, I know that, but now's really not the time. I promise you, we kill this demon and I'll stick around s'long as you want and we can talk, 'right?"
"Yeah..." The Slayer mumbled, nodding her head slightly. "Uh, come on, I'll get you some ice for that..." She said quietly, making a vague motion to his bleeding nose.
"Um, Buffy..." Spike said, stopping right outside the door.
Buffy turned to look at him as she threw some ice cubes into a ziploc bag. "Your invite still stands, if that's what you're wondering..." she said softly, closing the freezer.
"No, it's not..."
"Spike?"
The vampire turned to find Hope standing on the bottom step, her left eyebrow raised. Yep, you could tell she had lived with him for the past three years, she had picked up on most of his mannerisms and even held a colorful array of British curses. He held out his arm and the girl walked up to him. Putting a hand on her shoulder, he turned back to the confused Slayer standing inside the doorway. He sighed. "Buffy, this is Hope."
"Uh, hi." Buffy mumbled, giving the girl an odd look before looking back up at Spike, confusion etched on her features.
Running his hand over the back of his neck, Spike continued. "I've been takin' care of the girl for the past three years. Lookin' after her and protectin' her and the like. Well, not so much with the protectin', more like training."
"Training?" Buffy questioned, looking even more confused than she had moments before.
"Yeah, Slayer. She's a.... Slayer." He explained, cursing the limited vocabulary terms used to identify a 'Slayer'. Rolling his eyes, he looked back at Buffy. "Right pet, me and you are gonna have t'start goin' on a first name basis. Havin' two of you 'round is just bloody confusing."
Buffy didn't seem to hear him. She was staring wide eyed at the small girl standing at his side, decked out in some worn jeans and an orange hoodie. "You're a..."
Hope gave her a smile and shrugged. "I guess I was supposed to be your replacement, but that whole not-staying-dead issue kinda screwed things up."
Buffy just shook her head slightly and looked back up at Spike, who still had blood running from his nose. "Oh, uh, here." She handed him the makeshift icepack and stood to the side so they could walk in. Buffy gave Hope an odd look as she walked by before turning back to Spike, disbelief evident in her eyes.
Spike gave her a small smile, understanding - she couldn't believe how young the girl was. "She just turned fourteen a few months ago."
"Fourteen?" Buffy sputtered, shocked. Her eyes went back to the girl, who was standing with her arms crossed over her stomach. Suddenly Buffy felt very guilty about dying, given, had she not died everyone else on the face of the planet would have, but still. This girl, no, this child, was called to replace her. "She's so little..." She whispered, thinking outloud.
"Don't let 'er fool you. She might be small, but she packs a punch that could knock an elephant on it's arse." Spike assured her, trying to break the grim mood, but Buffy still looked lost. He sighed. "Look, luv, as much as I'd love to go into details, that demon isn't gonna sit 'round an' wait for us t'get out lives sorted out."
"He's right. I mean, I've heard like two sentences about the thing and I already don't like it." Hope added with a shrug.
Buffy sighed. "Yeah, demon..." She muttered, shaking her head slightly. "Come on, we'll go sit down."
Spike nodded, following her into the living room. "Ever hear of Glasya?" He asked, taking a seat on the couch.
"No." Buffy answered simply, having perched herself ontop of the coffee table. She watched as Hope sat down next to the vampire and stuck her hand into his coat pocket, pulling out a pack of gum.
"Want a piece?" She asked, looking over at the older Slayer as she shoved a piece in her mouth.
"No thanks..." Buffy muttered, not taking her eyes off of Spike. Something wasn't right. There was something about the vampire that shouldn't be there... "Spike, how the Hell did you get your coat?!" she snapped. "Dawn got rid of that thing years ago."
Spike smirked. "She sent it to me."
Buffy shot up from her seat and glared at him. "She knew where you were?!"
"Look, I sent the girl a letter from a friend's place to tell her I was sorry. I told her that if she wanted to write back, she had about two weeks to send a letter before I left there. She sent the jacket instead."
"So you wrote her but not me?" Buffy snapped. Spike shot up from his seat, annoyed. Hope just looked between the two, not saying a word.
"I didn't leave because of her, Slayer. I needed her t'know that." He said defensively. "I needed her t'know I was sorry."
"But you left because of me." She said flatly, her eyes cold. "So no need for appologies, right?"
"I left because of -me-, because of what I was doing to you. I was killing you, Buffy. You said it yourself."
"And leaving was supposed to make it better? Because it didn't." She barked, dropping her eyes to the ground. "It didn't..."
Spike closed his eyes, clenching his jaw as he ran his hand over his face. "I didn't come here lookin' for forgivness, luv. I don't deserve it, I know that. And you have ev'ry right to be pissed off after what I pulled, but can we just forget that for a bit and focus on the more prominent problem?"
"Fine." She spat. "I'm going to go change. We'll go get Dawn and Willow from the Bronze and head over to the shop. Something tells me tonights gonna be dubbed an official research night."
Spike nodded and sat back down, watching as she walked towards the stairs. She halted, but didn't look back. "And I'm pretty sure our fucked up relationship qualifies as a prominent problem." She shot hatefully before pounding upstairs.
Spike didn't move.
Hope stared at him curiously, noting the pained look in his eyes. She hadn't seen that there in years. It had been there when she met him, and she never questioned what made him so miserable, but eventually it went away. Before now she had had no clue as to what had hurt him, but now there was no doubt in her mind as to what it was.
Buffy.
She watched as he fell back into the cushions of the couch, closing his eyes. Sighing, she crawled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked quietly.
"Tell you what?" He asked, sounding miserable.
Hope remained quiet for a moment, unsure whether or not she actually wanted to answer the quesstion. "...that you love her."
Spike opened his eyes and blinked. "I never said..."
"...you don't have to." She cut in. "You'd have to be blind not to see it, and even then..." She stopped and sat up, looking the confused vampire in the eye. "I have no idea what you two were talking about, about what happened between you. Before now I thought you two had been friends, like you and me, but the way you talk to her... you can just tell, Spike."
----------
Buffy shifted through the clothes in her closet, looking for something to wear. Her face held a hateful scowl, but inside she was relieved that Spike was home. Sure, he had been here for all of ten minutes and had already managed to piss her off, but that was just Spike. To be honest she actually missed their bickering. Pulling out a pink peasant shirt, she scowled and tossed it to the floor. She must have thrown half the clothes in her closet to the floor before she realised what she was doing and stomped her foot in frustration.
"Dammit." She muttered, running her hand over her eyes. Why did she care what she wore? I mean, they were going to research some demon, it wasn't like they were going on a date or something. She cursed herself for being so self-concious around the vampire and snatched up a pair of dark colored jeans and a plain white tee that she had previously discarded. She changed quickly and grabbed her black leather jacket from the back of a chair as she stormed out of the room.
Pulling her arm into the jacket as she decended the stairs, she pulled her hair out of the back and looked over at the couch. She froze. Hope was curled up against the vampire, her head resting comfortably on his arm. Buffy couldn't believe how peacfeul she looked. A Slayer, a Slayer who trusted William the Bloody completely and wholely, not questioning the fact that he was monster, she obviously didn't care. Unlike her. Looking up, she gave Buffy a small smile before standing. Grabbing Spike's hand, she pulled him from the couch and led him towards the door.
Buffy gave Hope a small smile as she walked past and out the front door, but her smile faded as Spike walked by, giving her a wary look. Rolling her eyes, she followed them out the door, slamming it roughly behind her.