Disclaimer: Still own nothing, not Spike not James, only in my dreams. But, Cinderella said it best, "A dream is a wish your heart makes." Hell, kitchen wenches get princes; this hopeless author just wants a TV star! Hey, it could happen :)
A/N: Thanks for the feedback, I love hearing from you all. And I would love to hear from you on this chapter. I've written and rewritten it so many times. I quote Lady Holiday from The Great Muppet Caper, "It's plot exposition, darling. It has to go somewhere."
Enjoy! Oh and this ~*~*~ is a flashback warning.
Chapter 5: Baggage
He busied himself around the apartment, checking his phone messages, removing his jacket, undoing his tie and getting a bottle of vodka with two glasses from the kitchen. Buffy just removed her shoes and curled up in one of the leather chairs. She knew he would come to her when he was finished stalling.
He fell into the buttery fabric with a huff. He set the bottle and shots on the glass coffee table that separated him from Buffy. Spike watched the clear liquid as it fell from the bottle's mouth into the glasses below. The stinging smell filled his nose. It was pungent, warm and familiar. He remembered all the times this was his late night companion, a tool he used to find his dreams of her and stifle the feelings she brought with every look that passed her face. And now, she was in front of him. Once again he turned to Lady Liquor for assistance. He didn't want to be drunk and loosen his tongue. He just wanted to feel the heat invade his mouth and throat.
He pushed one glass to Buffy. She placed it before her; her fingers lightly traipsed around the rim. "What do you want to know, Slayer? Do you want to know about all the places I've seen in the past five years? All the baddies I've encountered? How many Council members I've pissed off? That's any easy one, all of them. They hate me helping them almost as much as I do."
"What would you rather?" she asked, knocking back her vodka.
Spike followed suit. "Just run my club, go about my business without having to worry about the gits in gray suits."
"When did you get the chip out?"
"As soon as I left," he answered as he poured two more rounds.
"Did it hurt?" Her voice had a hint of nervousness in it.
"The removal, no. To get it removed, yes." Buffy looked at him with questioning eyes. "That is one thing I don't want to get into, Slayer. I had to fight for it. Wasn't all magic and machinations. I fought and I won. End of story." Buffy nodded in understanding. She didn't want to upset him so early in the conversation; there was so much she wanted to know. "So, Slayer, that was three questions. Keep them coming."
Buffy downed her shot and let the scorching sensation run through her. She turned the glass over, not wanting anymore for the moment. "I don't have a list," she began. "I just want to where you've been, what you've been up to…why you didn't come back."
Spike knew she was looking at him intently, willing him to look at her. He regretted it as soon as he saw the pain in those emerald eyes. No doubt she was remembering the fateful night he left. Out of all the days he lived, that was the one that brought him the most pain and satisfaction. Pain because of his lack of control, attacking the woman he loved and proving the whelp right; he was a monster. Satisfaction because, if it weren't for that night, he would never be where he was now. Most likely he would still be held up in his drafty crypt waiting for his Slayer to interrogate him about the new demon in town, waiting for the swift punch to the nose that he misread for affection. But, no. He knew better. She had feelings for him; it wasn't love. He saw it in her face. That was the first time he really let it sink in and he died for the third time. He would have rather stayed dead with Buffy in the ground than see that look in her eyes.
She waited patiently for him to respond; he was deep in thought. His intoxicating cerulean eyes welled up and he tried to swallow, but with great difficulty. "Spike?" His name came out as a whisper. "Why didn't you come back? Clem- He said you were going to come back. Were you afraid to face the music, Spike?" she shot out.
"I did come back," he mumbled.
"What?" Buffy sat in the edge of his seat, not sure if she heard him correctly. "Wh-when? When did you come back?"
Spike ignored his shot glass and took a swig from the open bottle. He quickly stood and made his way to the balcony. He ripped his shirt from his pants and unbuttoned the first few buttons, much more comfortable.
As he retrieved his infamous lighter from his pocket, Buffy stepped passed him onto the balcony. The night air was hot, balmy and full of evening gaiety. She faced the vampire who was doing his best to hide behind his mask of smoke.
"I came back one night in July. I had just gotten the chip out and I didn't know what to do next. But, I needed to make sure you were alright, you and the Nibblet.
"I stood on the back porch for, Lord, I don't know how long. Dawn found me before I could knock."
~*~*~
"What are you doing here?"
"Honestly, I'm not sure."
"When did you get back?"
"Just now. I- Are you okay?"
Dawn stepped out onto the porch and gently closed the door. She gingerly walked towards the vampire she deemed her friend. "I'm fine. My shrink says with a few years of therapy and strong drugs I may overcome my abandonment issues and severed heart."
Spike winced at her sarcasm. "Nibblet, I-"
"You left, just left. No goodbye hug, no letter, no nothing. I needed you and you weren't here. You promised you'd protect me. Do you have any idea how it felt going to your crypt and finding Clem sitting there in your chair, watching your TV? Forget how I felt, do you know how Buffy felt?"
"Relieved?" he muttered.
"Try broken, betrayed? But, she didn't have time to think about it because she had to go save the world again. You wouldn't know anything about that 'cause you weren't here when she needed you!" Tears flowed profusely from her large blue eyes, trailing over her cheeks and down her nose.
He could barely hold back his own tears at the sight of his girl. He loved her and missed her so much. "Dawn, love, I had to go. I couldn't stay here after…"
Dawn started to hiccup through her sobs. "Clem said you'd come back and I tried to believe him. I mean, you did leave everything behind, your TV, your duster…me."
Spike abandoned all reserves, grabbed the girl by the shoulders and pulled her close. Her tears stained his black shirt and her body shook with every sob, every intake of breath. Spike held her in a tight embrace, never wanting to let go till he freed her from crying.
His hand stroked her long hair as he whispered to her. "I missed you, Nibblet." He kissed the top of her head and she squeezed him tighter.
After a rather peaceful silence, Spike held Dawn at arms length. "I didn't say goodbye because I intended on coming back."
"So now what, Spike? Are you going to tell Buffy you're here?"
"How's she doing?" he asked, avoiding the question for a moment.
"How is she ever? She works, she slays, she sleeps on occasion and has even found some time to enjoy the summer weather."
"Sounds about right," he admitted glumly. Maybe things really were better for her now, without him.
"She turned in early tonight, but I doubt she's asleep. I'll go get her."
"No, don't bother, Dawn. I'm going to go back to the crypt, see Clem and thank him for everything."
"Spike. You know I love you, right?"
"I love you too, Bit, like you were my own."
"I love you, but not everyone does around here. Be careful."
"Always am, pet, always am."
~*~*~
"I left, went home and caught up with Clem. He filled me in on everything that happened with Willow and Tara. I couldn't believe it. I knew Red had it in her, but I liked Tara, nice girl. Go figure she got killed by a human." He wanted to make a comment about Wanker Warren being a supposedly souled being, but he refrained.
"Willow appreciated the flowers you sent her though. I think she almost smiled when she read the card," Buffy told him.
"I'm glad." Their eyes sought out each other's, remorse seeking comfort, blue seeking green. The tension built between their gaze; it was palpable and almost suffocating. Neither could read the other's desires, but searched nonetheless, searched for some sign of how to move on from here.
Spike cleared his throat; the only way to move on was to tell the story. "I went back the next night, but I didn't see Dawn. I saw you in the kitchen, must of have just gotten home from work."
~*~*~
"You touch her, you die, vampire." Xander had a stake ready in his hand. "Don't bother going in; you've been uninvited."
Spike did not doubt the words; he suspected as much, but it burned him to hear it from the man before him.
"You shouldn't have come back, Spike. It would have been better for all of us."
"Yeah, maybe," Spike remarked as he satisfied his need for a cigarette. "So, are you going to stake me already?" Inside Spike wanted to pummel Xander to a pulpy mess of blood and skin and leave his trademark right through his jugular. He could never do it though, no matter how much he wanted to, he could never to that Dawn and Buffy.
Xander pocketed the stake. "No, I'm not going to stake you, not tonight at least. You know how I feel so there's no use repeating it anymore. Oh, what the hell, once more for old times sake. I hate you and that is not something I do lightly. Dislike, yes, annoyed by, oh yes, but hate, I save that one for creatures like you. But, I love Buffy and for that reason only, I'm going to forget I saw you tonight as long as you clear out of town and go back to wherever you've been for the last three months."
"And why would I do that? I just got here."
Xander nodded to the kitchen window. Spike watched his love inside. Dawn must have just come home, Willow too. The three of them were in the kitchen, smiles on their faces. Dawn looked like she was telling one of her stories.
"Look at that smile. It finally came back on a daily basis. She's happy now. Finally, she's gotten over everything you did to her." Spike faced Xander once more. "Do you really want to ruin all that? If you still believe you love her, turn around and leave. If you don't, you'll just be proving everything I ever said about you; you are a monster. You don't care about Buffy or Dawn."
"I love Buffy and the Lil Bit."
Xander took a forthright step towards Spike. "Then prove me wrong. Do what's best for her."
"Leave? Just like Angel? Just like the GI Joe?"
"Atleast she can smile at the thought of them. Do you want me to tell you what she looks like when your name is accidentally mentioned? I'm sure I can draw you a picture if you'd rather; I've seen it so many times. Every time she'd find a cigarette butt in the yard, every time we passed your crypt on patrol, every time she saw you God forsaken jacket-"
"Enough," he demanded, his voice low and cold. He could not hide his anger or his guilt. How he hated that emotion! "I get the point."
"Then you'll go." Xander joined his friends inside, leaving Spike on the outside looking in.
He felt like sodding James Stewart in It's A bloody Wonderful Life and the whelp was his "Clarence." He saw the world without him and it did not look so bad, much to his dismay. Buffy was fine; she looked wonderful and content. Dawn, despite her complaints, was doing fine as well; he could tell by the light that had returned to her eyes. It was the same one he saw in Buffy's. Thousands of thoughts and promises banged in his head. It was like bumper cars, a happy thought was immediately bumped aside to make way for a terrible memory, one memory in particular.
"Are you here to see Buffy?"
It broke his undead heart to see the hope in Dawn's face. "No, Nibblet I- I came to say goodbye."
"You've got to be kidding me? Is this some kind of joke? What did Xander say to you? Don't believe him, Spike, he knows nothing," she pleaded.
"He does, Dawn. He knows Buffy. For once I think he might be right. I'm going to pack up my stuff and head out."
"No! No, you can't do this to me! To her! She deserves to know you're here." Dawn grabbed Spike's hand and tried to pull him to the door. He wrenched his hand away from her.
"I doubt she would care. You are the only one who cares."
"You don't mean that. She misses you, Spike; I know she does. She's kept your duster all these months. She can't bear to be with out. Any time Xander tried to take it, she screamed bloody murder until he left it alone. Why would she do that if she didn't care?" Spike made no answer. "I know you feel bad, but running away-"
"I'm not running, Dawn. I'm making a choice." He sighed and looked to the stars, hoping for an answer.
"She needs you."
"No, she doesn't. She never did. I was… 'convenient.'" Spike spat out the last word. It tasted revolting on his tongue, a hard sounding word filling his mouth. "She used me and I let her because I loved her. I'm of no use to her anymore. You lot look pretty secure; I'm just baggage. As long as I know you two are safe, I can go."
"Don't I get a say in this?" Dawn cried. "Stay for me, Spike."
"Your sis wouldn't let me near you if she knew I blew into town."
"You don't know that."
"Doesn't matter anyway. I'm not staying here just to get kicked around again."
"Spike-"
"Dawn," he silenced her. "I'm going tomorrow night."
She sniffed. "You want your duster back I guess."
"Clem will get it tomorrow."
"She won't let him take it," she warned.
"Yes, she will. Are you going to give me a hug?"
The young girl threw herself back into the arms of the vampire. She couldn't believe she was losing him again. It wasn't fair. She held on to him for dear life. If she held tight enough, long enough, maybe he'd see how much she needed him, how much Buffy…
"Where will you go?"
"I'll let you know when I get there, okay?"
She smiled at the prospect. "So, you'll keep in touch?"
"Yes, with you. You're my girl, Dawn and I need that."
"I do too. Just remember, I don't care where you go or however long it may be till I see you again, just know, you are loved."
He quickly detached himself from Dawn's lethal grip and ran into the night. His entire body ached as the warmth of her embrace dissipated. He made it to the bushes where he stopped at the sound of her voice.
"Dawn?" Spike saw her standing in the moonlight, his favorite way to see her. "Dawn, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"
"Stung," she sobbed.
"You've been stung?" Buffy clarified.
Dawn nodded and entered the house. Buffy stayed outside for a moment as if looking for the creature that stung her sister. Instead her eyes landed on the remainder of one of Spike's cigarette butts in a planter. Her face contorted into a vision of anguish. Her brow furrowed, her full lips became thin and her healthy hue turned pale. So, that was the look.
Spike headed home. He didn't like that look. He liked her smiling. She was radiant, glowing. Yes, he liked her glowing.
He missed the feel of the leather against his cool skin. He was glad to have it back. "Have any trouble?" the vampire asked his friend.
"A little," Clem confessed. "She didn't really want to let go of the sleeve. Dawnie had to pry her fingers loose. Are you sure this is-"
"Yes," he interrupted, knowing the question, the one he had asked himself every minute since he left the Summers' house. "I am sure."
"You should have seen the look on her face though, Spike."
"I don't want to hear it." He continued surveying the crypt for anything else he needed to take on his journey.
"But, really, she looked…broken, like a watch that just lost all its wheels."
"I said I don't want to hear it!" He inhaled, trying to calm down. "Besides, no one can break her. She'd never let anyone get that close."
Clem carried on. "Dawn looked bad too and she was expecting this visit. I can tell you, this is not a trip I enjoyed, Spike. Too many sad faces on such pretty girls. They look so much prettier when they smile."
"What did you tell them, Clem?"
"Just what you told me to, that you decided to settle down elsewhere and that you would send word to Dawn when you arrived."
"Good."
"Although," Clem began, ignoring Spike's moan of protest, "Buffy looked mighty disappointed you weren't writing to her."
This guy never quits, does he? 'Course not, he was a nice guy and as such, he was trying to point out the flaws of Spike's plan. Spike would miss Clem. Or maybe not?
"Clem?"
"Hmm?"
"What are you doing for the next year or so?"
~*~*~
"So, we took off, ended up in Vegas, made a bundle, the legal gambling way. Clem had the Midas touch with those slot machines." He chuckled at the memory. "We ended up here almost a year later. Then Clem met Carlotta while she was on holiday and I met Joaquin.
We were having a pint or two at the club when some buggers were trying to wreck the joint. I helped Joaquin out with the demon issues. He was so grateful, we drank on the house for a fortnight. Carlotta, as luck would have it, knew Joaquin, friend of her dad's or something like that. Anyway, it was love at first sight for her and Clem. Whole bloody bells on the hill ringing and birds in the sky singing their lil ditties."
"What happened to Joaquin?" Buffy asked, breaking her long silence.
Spike frowned. "He died last year, attacked outside the club. Joaquin didn't allow fighting in the club, hence the Fyarls as a scare tactic. So, they got him right outside one night. At least they didn't turn him 'cause I don't know if I-" Spike didn't bother finishing his sentence. He heaved a sigh and wrapped up his tale. "They all got theirs in the end, right fucking bastards died like dogs they did. Could have done worse, but… Joaquin left me the club and a handsome sum for Clem and Carlotta's wedding. Then came the day I got a phone call from the sodding wankers that now write out my checks." Spike gazed upwards as he thought back on his friend. "Poor bloke didn't deserve it. Don't think I've taken to someone so quickly in a long time. He was one of those people you had to acknowledge. Just by looking at him, I knew I had to respect him; I wanted to respect him. And all he did was give me a pat on the back."
It was a long time before Buffy said anything. It was so strange to hear his side of the story; she knew the other one. She vividly recalled the day Clem came for the duster. She didn't know what to say at first. She didn't believe him. Spike said he'd come back and come back he would. But, the sunken expression on Clem's face proved otherwise. And now, she still didn't know what to say. Everything was so mixed up in her head and it was such a long time ago. So many emotional changes had occurred since then.
"I didn't have you uninvited."
Spike raised his scarred brow. "That's interesting."
"Your coat never left the house. It was on the coat rack by the door waiting for you." It also spent numerous nights wrapped around her small form as she tried to sleep, but she wasn't ready to admit that part. "I remember Dawn crying the night before, but she never said anything, only that she was stung. When your letter came, I was relieved. I didn't know how upset I was, thinking you could be dead and I'd never know it. I just…" She breathed deeply, not trusting her own voice to continue. "I just wanted to know where you were. That's all I really wanted. And when I knew, I could breathe again."
Silence again overtook them. Buffy concentrated on the Latin beat from a nearby club. It was so moving, making her want to dance in the streets, not be sad.
Buffy sighed. "I wanted to see you."
"I wanted you to. I wanted to read your letters."
"I didn't want that."
"So you said."
The drums played in her head and in her ribcage.
"Do you have anymore question, Slayer?"
That hurt. It was pulling rank, putting her above him and she hated the sound of it and the implication of it.
"Slayer?" No response. "Buffy?"
"Yes, my name is Buffy. 'Slayer' is for work and I'm not working now. When we work, 'Slayer' is fine, but outside of work, it's Buffy, pet, love or any other nickname you have."
"You never liked those names," he reminded her.
"Yes I did," she declared with such certainty that Spike blinked. She used to tell him repeatedly to stop calling her 'love.' Of course he never listened to her, but now she said she always liked them. Did that mean anything or was it all in his head?
"Do you have any more questions, Buffy?"
"Not tonight," she answered, relishing her name on his lips. It felt so much better, like silk to her skin. "I'm going to go change though."
"You looked stunning today, almost put the bride to shame."
"I sincerely doubt that." She stepped back into the apartment before adding, "You looked good yourself," she added hesitantly.
"In sunlight?"
"In… everything."
Just my own note, Spike's reference to Clem's love at first sight as birds singing and bells ringing, is from a song called, "Till There Was You" from The Music Man.