Redeeming Spike's Ass
Part Ten
*Song lyrics by Rancid. But it is NOT a song fic. Shut up.
"I have to pee."
"Bloody hell." Spike glanced into the rear-view mirror to look at Dawn, who was sitting cross-legged in the center of the backseat. "We just left an hour ago."
"And now I have to pee," Dawn said firmly. "There's a gas station in a few miles; we can stop there."
"Oh!" Buffy added excitedly. "And when we stop, we can switch drivers."
"No," Spike said immediately.
Buffy leaned against the passenger side door and gave him her best pouty frown. "Pleeeease?"
"If we don't stop, my bladder could explode," came the voice from behind them.
"You're the navigator," Spike explained, gesturing to the sheets of paper that lay neglected on the dashboard. "That's your job."
"My job sucks." Buffy picked up the papers and regarded them as if they were poisonous. As she began reading the first one, she shook her head in mock disappointment. "Damn, Wes wrote the directions in British; you're gonna have to be navigator so you can translate."
"And if my bladder explodes, I could die."
"All right! We're stopping!" Spike gripped the wheel so tightly that the veins in his arms were easily visible. "Sweet buggering Jesus. Always thought you'd end up killing me, Buffy. Wouldn't have guessed it would be by aggravating me to death."
"It's one of the less well-known Slayer powers," Buffy said with a smug smile.
The gravel of the gas station parking lot crunched underneath the bulky black car. It was a small facility, with only two cars outside: a rusty red Jetta parked towards the back that presumably belonged to the clerk inside, and a typical SUV at the gas pump. Its occupants, two burly young men, were just finishing at the pump as the DeSoto pulled up behind them.
Dawn dashed out of the car before Spike even put it into park.
"Got the cash?" Spike asked.
Buffy nodded and patted her front pocket.
"Pick us up a pack of smokes, would you, love?"
"No," Buffy said with a mocking chuckle as she opened the door and headed into the small building.
She wandered around the aisles looking for fat-free pretzels, but found only one unhealthy snack after another. Finally she decided to go with the dairy-laden Cheese Nips, figuring that, if the world was going to end in a week anyway, it wouldn't matter if she gained some weight.
"Aaaah, I feel so much better," Dawn said, nearly skipping as she met Buffy next to a display of Doritos. "Can I get a hot dog?"
"No," Buffy teased. "You have to starve until we get to Michigan."
"Michigan," Dawn said with a groan. "I thought the world would end in an exciting place, you know, like Rome or something." She made her way to a line of foul-smelling bins on hot plates and began assembling a unique concoction on top of the helpless hot dog.
The sound of a door opening made Buffy look up, and she saw Spike enter and move towards the beverage cases in the back. He'd taken his jacket when they left Sunnydale and was wearing it again now, which seemed to enhance his characteristic strut. Knowing him as she did, Buffy found this badass façade almost laughable. But the two other customers, both substantially larger than Spike, went out of their way to walk to the front counter without passing by him.
Buffy turned away from her sister's repulsive eating habits to take in the show. He opened the soda case with his arm held a little too high and shot a piercing look inside, like he might have to slay the Pepsis if they made any sudden moves. But at the same time he adopted a casual stance, one slender hip out, all his weight on that leg. It seemed to say, "Yeah, maybe I'll kill you, or maybe I'm just too unbelievably cool to kill you." He had a body that, if human, would be dangerously malnourished, but at that moment he filled the room.
*I could destroy him.*
The thought came out of nowhere, and Buffy took a quick breath in at an unfamiliar emotion.
It wasn't hatred, or anger. And though there was pride in this knowledge, that wasn't what appealed to her.
*I could destroy him. Mr. Too-Unbelievably-Cool, who can decapitate a demon with his bare hands, and intimidate anyone on earth, is at my total mercy. I've come so close before, hurt him so much, reduced him to nothing, and I wasn't even trying then. And while I wouldn't ever try, wouldn't ever throw away what I've found here, I.could.*
There was something in that, something in the knowledge that she wouldn't, but *could*. Something familiar.
"Earth to the bleached blondes in the store!" Dawn was standing at the counter with a paper plate, her hot dog invisible underneath a pile of unidentifiable condiments. Her shout broke the spell of Buffy-watching- Spike-watching-various-carbonated-beverages, and Buffy hurried to the register to pay for their food.
"Get a map," Spike said as he swaggered up behind them. "I can get us to 70 once we reach LA, but then you gotta find Interstate 80."
"It would probably be easier for *you* to find Interstate 80 on the map," Buffy said without turning around. "You know, if I was driving." She handed Dawn a five dollar bill. "And I do not bleach my hair."
"And based on that statement, you're obviously far too delusional to be operating a vehicle." There was the click of a lighter as Spike turned and walked back outside.
"So the clock in there said seven," Dawn said as they carried their food out. "I figure we should drive all night, what with our vampire situation. I don't mind sleeping in the car a little, and then we could sleep a little more in some motel, right?"
"Sounds good." Buffy opened her bag of Cheese Nips as they approached Spike, who was leaning against the hood of the car with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. "Of course, if the big whiny-ass would give up the wheel, we could make some time during the day too."
Spike exhaled smoke through his nose slowly as he narrowed his eyes at her. "We've got two days to get there; we'll make it."
Buffy stopped in front of him and nodded at the cigarette. "Hello? Fire hazard much?"
He responded by flicking his ashes towards the gas pumps.
Once they were all inside the car, Buffy grabbed the half-smoked cigarette from his mouth and tossed it out her window.
"Hey!"
"Secondhand smoke kills," she said as she adjusted the seat to lean back slightly.
"Yeah, and occasionally so do loveable ensouled vampires," Spike added, shifting the car into drive.
As they drove back onto the highway, the steady motion began to make Buffy tired, and she curled up against the seatback. She's barely slept the night before, and it was beginning to catch up to her, like a weight on her temples. "So Dawn," she said through a yawn. "What's this thing we're going to again?"
"Well, Anya couldn't find out a lot," Dawn explained. "But the online newsletter said the Team of Destiny is having a meeting in Flint, Michigan Thursday night. Wesley said that should be when big whatever goes down."
"That all the information we got?" Spike asked with an annoyed scoff. "Wanker couldn't find out if it was a gang of vampires or a giant snake demon or."
"I don't like those," Buffy muttered, her eyes slowly closing.
"Bit, hand me a tape from back there, would ya'?"
Buffy heard a rustling behind her, followed by Dawn's stern voice: "Not System of a Down. That stuff makes my teeth rattle."
"Fine," Spike replied with an exaggerated sigh. "Pick one of the ones you like then."
"You mean one of the ones that probably won't make my ears bleed?"
"Yeah, one of those."
The loud drone of the car seemed to fade, and Buffy found herself halfway into a restful sleep. The music that began a few minutes later was surprisingly mellow for Spike's tastes, and she almost enjoyed hearing him sing along.
"Never fell in love, 'till I fell in love with you. Never knew what a good time was 'till I had a good time with you."
As she gradually gave in to sleep, Buffy thought that, Armageddon aside, this probably wouldn't be a bad trip. She heard the clunking of Dawn looking through tapes, the twist of a cap as a bottle was opened, and the subdued singing of Spike beside her, and realized that there weren't two people on earth who she was more comfortable with at this moment.
Suddenly there was a rumbling sound, and it took her a moment to recognize that it was a guitar. Then the volume surged, and she was shaken awake.
"Here it is! Here I am! Turn it up, *fucking loud!*"
Spike was singing at the top of his lungs now, and what had started out as a tolerable song had exploded into a punk chorus. He was practically shouting along with the lyrics, one hand on the wheel, the older holding a 40 ounce bottle of Olde English.
"Radio radio radio radio radio radio radio! When I got the music, I got a place to go! Radio radio radio radio radio ra - "
Buffy pounded her hand against the tape deck, and the car was plunged into silence.
"Hey!"
"This concludes the music portion of our program." She gestured to the alcohol as he took another gulp from the oversized bottle. "And, excuse me, Dr. Dre. Could we possibly not do the drinking and driving thing?"
Spike rolled his eyes and screwed the top back on the bottle. Dawn immediately reached up to take it from him.
"Is she always this bossy?"
"Yep," Dawn replied.
"Sleeping now," Buffy said, curling up once again. "Aggravating Spike later."
She could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke. "I look forward to it, you crazy bitch."
*
When Buffy woke up, the steady sound of crickets chirping was the only noise. Still drowsy from what seemed like a marathon sleep, she kept her eyes closed as she tried to become aware of her surroundings, but it was impossibly quiet. Then there was a breath - a long inhale, though she hadn't sensed a person before, following by an exhale, and the smell of smoke.
"I had a dream about you," she said, her voice still weak from sleep.
"Nice and dirty, I hope," he replied. There was a faint patting sound, and the cigarette smell began to dissolve.
She kept her eyes shut, trying to recall the details. "I bought a condo. It was such a good price; I couldn't turn it down, even though I still had the house. You were there, and you told me to sublet it."
He laughed softly. Since his cigarette was extinguished, and the accompanying breath ceased, it was the only sound besides the crickets. It rumbled, as if coming from the depths of his chest. With her eyes closed, it seemed as if this - his low, quiet laugh - was the only thing present in the night. She opened her eyes.
He was looking straight ahead, the meager light from a gas station window just barely illuminated the angles of his face. The night was that intense dark that comes less than an hour before daybreak, drowning out nearly everything in sight. The crickets continued their steady twittering, but otherwise the earth seemed barren, and she thought that it would be safe to kiss him, lost in this big empty space.
And suddenly she felt a wave of remorse so powerful that she had to look away from him, focusing instead on the slight glow of the smoldering cigarette in the ashtray between them. When they'd kissed previously, in the day since his return, it was always a prelude to sex, which was easy and familiar between them. When she'd said, 'I love you' it wasn't as hard as she would've imagined; the feeling had grown in her slowly enough. But earlier that evening, in her bedroom, when they'd exchanged only the slightest touch, she'd nearly panicked.
The tiny red light dimmed until it was only a pinprick in the blackness, and then disappeared.
*I want to apologize, but I don't think I can even explain what's wrong. I don't understand why I can laugh at the things I used to be afraid of, but the things that should come naturally scare me. I don't understand why I can sleep so easily next to you and not look at you when I wake up. I don't understand why I feel like I can only kiss you when the world's ended. *
"Dawn's gonna need some money," he said, saving her from her thoughts. He turned his head towards her with a slight tilt, and if he could sense her uneasiness, he didn't show it. "This place sells ice cream."
Buffy sat up and looked out the window at the convenience store and the highway beyond it. "Where are we?"
"Just outside Colorado, I think, but we'll have to stop at the next exit; almost morning."
Buffy nodded and opened the car door, stretching her legs out one at a time before getting out of the car.
"Buffy?"
Her body tensed, and for a moment she was terrified that somehow he'd managed to read her thoughts, and now he'd call her on it, make her explain..
"Tell her not to forget my chocolate cone," Spike said. And he lit another cigarette.
*
When they stopped at the motel, the edges of the sky were already beginning to lighten. Dawn walked inside main office confidently, her teenage maturity only slightly betrayed by the bubble-gum ice cream cone in her hand.
Spike followed closely behind her. Though weary from driving, he'd found new strength in his mission to devour his ice cream as completely as possible. He leaned against the wall of the office, safely out of range of any surprise sunlight attacks, and concentrated on extracting each bit of chocolate from what remained of the chewed-up sugar cone.
Buffy took her time catching up, still feeling lethargic from having slept too much. By the time she entered, Dawn was already negotiating with the clerk, and she smiled involuntarily at seeing her sister this way - knowledgeable, self-possessed, so far from the frightened young girl who'd once hidden from a hell god.
"But if you could just put an extra like, cot, in the room," Dawn was saying to the middle-aged man. "Then you wouldn't have to charge us a lot more, right?"
Buffy looked over at Spike just as he thrust his tongue into the bottom of the sugar cone to lick away the remaining ice cream, and suddenly she felt wide awake.
"Actually," she said, moving to Dawn's side. "We should probably get two rooms."
Part Ten
*Song lyrics by Rancid. But it is NOT a song fic. Shut up.
"I have to pee."
"Bloody hell." Spike glanced into the rear-view mirror to look at Dawn, who was sitting cross-legged in the center of the backseat. "We just left an hour ago."
"And now I have to pee," Dawn said firmly. "There's a gas station in a few miles; we can stop there."
"Oh!" Buffy added excitedly. "And when we stop, we can switch drivers."
"No," Spike said immediately.
Buffy leaned against the passenger side door and gave him her best pouty frown. "Pleeeease?"
"If we don't stop, my bladder could explode," came the voice from behind them.
"You're the navigator," Spike explained, gesturing to the sheets of paper that lay neglected on the dashboard. "That's your job."
"My job sucks." Buffy picked up the papers and regarded them as if they were poisonous. As she began reading the first one, she shook her head in mock disappointment. "Damn, Wes wrote the directions in British; you're gonna have to be navigator so you can translate."
"And if my bladder explodes, I could die."
"All right! We're stopping!" Spike gripped the wheel so tightly that the veins in his arms were easily visible. "Sweet buggering Jesus. Always thought you'd end up killing me, Buffy. Wouldn't have guessed it would be by aggravating me to death."
"It's one of the less well-known Slayer powers," Buffy said with a smug smile.
The gravel of the gas station parking lot crunched underneath the bulky black car. It was a small facility, with only two cars outside: a rusty red Jetta parked towards the back that presumably belonged to the clerk inside, and a typical SUV at the gas pump. Its occupants, two burly young men, were just finishing at the pump as the DeSoto pulled up behind them.
Dawn dashed out of the car before Spike even put it into park.
"Got the cash?" Spike asked.
Buffy nodded and patted her front pocket.
"Pick us up a pack of smokes, would you, love?"
"No," Buffy said with a mocking chuckle as she opened the door and headed into the small building.
She wandered around the aisles looking for fat-free pretzels, but found only one unhealthy snack after another. Finally she decided to go with the dairy-laden Cheese Nips, figuring that, if the world was going to end in a week anyway, it wouldn't matter if she gained some weight.
"Aaaah, I feel so much better," Dawn said, nearly skipping as she met Buffy next to a display of Doritos. "Can I get a hot dog?"
"No," Buffy teased. "You have to starve until we get to Michigan."
"Michigan," Dawn said with a groan. "I thought the world would end in an exciting place, you know, like Rome or something." She made her way to a line of foul-smelling bins on hot plates and began assembling a unique concoction on top of the helpless hot dog.
The sound of a door opening made Buffy look up, and she saw Spike enter and move towards the beverage cases in the back. He'd taken his jacket when they left Sunnydale and was wearing it again now, which seemed to enhance his characteristic strut. Knowing him as she did, Buffy found this badass façade almost laughable. But the two other customers, both substantially larger than Spike, went out of their way to walk to the front counter without passing by him.
Buffy turned away from her sister's repulsive eating habits to take in the show. He opened the soda case with his arm held a little too high and shot a piercing look inside, like he might have to slay the Pepsis if they made any sudden moves. But at the same time he adopted a casual stance, one slender hip out, all his weight on that leg. It seemed to say, "Yeah, maybe I'll kill you, or maybe I'm just too unbelievably cool to kill you." He had a body that, if human, would be dangerously malnourished, but at that moment he filled the room.
*I could destroy him.*
The thought came out of nowhere, and Buffy took a quick breath in at an unfamiliar emotion.
It wasn't hatred, or anger. And though there was pride in this knowledge, that wasn't what appealed to her.
*I could destroy him. Mr. Too-Unbelievably-Cool, who can decapitate a demon with his bare hands, and intimidate anyone on earth, is at my total mercy. I've come so close before, hurt him so much, reduced him to nothing, and I wasn't even trying then. And while I wouldn't ever try, wouldn't ever throw away what I've found here, I.could.*
There was something in that, something in the knowledge that she wouldn't, but *could*. Something familiar.
"Earth to the bleached blondes in the store!" Dawn was standing at the counter with a paper plate, her hot dog invisible underneath a pile of unidentifiable condiments. Her shout broke the spell of Buffy-watching- Spike-watching-various-carbonated-beverages, and Buffy hurried to the register to pay for their food.
"Get a map," Spike said as he swaggered up behind them. "I can get us to 70 once we reach LA, but then you gotta find Interstate 80."
"It would probably be easier for *you* to find Interstate 80 on the map," Buffy said without turning around. "You know, if I was driving." She handed Dawn a five dollar bill. "And I do not bleach my hair."
"And based on that statement, you're obviously far too delusional to be operating a vehicle." There was the click of a lighter as Spike turned and walked back outside.
"So the clock in there said seven," Dawn said as they carried their food out. "I figure we should drive all night, what with our vampire situation. I don't mind sleeping in the car a little, and then we could sleep a little more in some motel, right?"
"Sounds good." Buffy opened her bag of Cheese Nips as they approached Spike, who was leaning against the hood of the car with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. "Of course, if the big whiny-ass would give up the wheel, we could make some time during the day too."
Spike exhaled smoke through his nose slowly as he narrowed his eyes at her. "We've got two days to get there; we'll make it."
Buffy stopped in front of him and nodded at the cigarette. "Hello? Fire hazard much?"
He responded by flicking his ashes towards the gas pumps.
Once they were all inside the car, Buffy grabbed the half-smoked cigarette from his mouth and tossed it out her window.
"Hey!"
"Secondhand smoke kills," she said as she adjusted the seat to lean back slightly.
"Yeah, and occasionally so do loveable ensouled vampires," Spike added, shifting the car into drive.
As they drove back onto the highway, the steady motion began to make Buffy tired, and she curled up against the seatback. She's barely slept the night before, and it was beginning to catch up to her, like a weight on her temples. "So Dawn," she said through a yawn. "What's this thing we're going to again?"
"Well, Anya couldn't find out a lot," Dawn explained. "But the online newsletter said the Team of Destiny is having a meeting in Flint, Michigan Thursday night. Wesley said that should be when big whatever goes down."
"That all the information we got?" Spike asked with an annoyed scoff. "Wanker couldn't find out if it was a gang of vampires or a giant snake demon or."
"I don't like those," Buffy muttered, her eyes slowly closing.
"Bit, hand me a tape from back there, would ya'?"
Buffy heard a rustling behind her, followed by Dawn's stern voice: "Not System of a Down. That stuff makes my teeth rattle."
"Fine," Spike replied with an exaggerated sigh. "Pick one of the ones you like then."
"You mean one of the ones that probably won't make my ears bleed?"
"Yeah, one of those."
The loud drone of the car seemed to fade, and Buffy found herself halfway into a restful sleep. The music that began a few minutes later was surprisingly mellow for Spike's tastes, and she almost enjoyed hearing him sing along.
"Never fell in love, 'till I fell in love with you. Never knew what a good time was 'till I had a good time with you."
As she gradually gave in to sleep, Buffy thought that, Armageddon aside, this probably wouldn't be a bad trip. She heard the clunking of Dawn looking through tapes, the twist of a cap as a bottle was opened, and the subdued singing of Spike beside her, and realized that there weren't two people on earth who she was more comfortable with at this moment.
Suddenly there was a rumbling sound, and it took her a moment to recognize that it was a guitar. Then the volume surged, and she was shaken awake.
"Here it is! Here I am! Turn it up, *fucking loud!*"
Spike was singing at the top of his lungs now, and what had started out as a tolerable song had exploded into a punk chorus. He was practically shouting along with the lyrics, one hand on the wheel, the older holding a 40 ounce bottle of Olde English.
"Radio radio radio radio radio radio radio! When I got the music, I got a place to go! Radio radio radio radio radio ra - "
Buffy pounded her hand against the tape deck, and the car was plunged into silence.
"Hey!"
"This concludes the music portion of our program." She gestured to the alcohol as he took another gulp from the oversized bottle. "And, excuse me, Dr. Dre. Could we possibly not do the drinking and driving thing?"
Spike rolled his eyes and screwed the top back on the bottle. Dawn immediately reached up to take it from him.
"Is she always this bossy?"
"Yep," Dawn replied.
"Sleeping now," Buffy said, curling up once again. "Aggravating Spike later."
She could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke. "I look forward to it, you crazy bitch."
*
When Buffy woke up, the steady sound of crickets chirping was the only noise. Still drowsy from what seemed like a marathon sleep, she kept her eyes closed as she tried to become aware of her surroundings, but it was impossibly quiet. Then there was a breath - a long inhale, though she hadn't sensed a person before, following by an exhale, and the smell of smoke.
"I had a dream about you," she said, her voice still weak from sleep.
"Nice and dirty, I hope," he replied. There was a faint patting sound, and the cigarette smell began to dissolve.
She kept her eyes shut, trying to recall the details. "I bought a condo. It was such a good price; I couldn't turn it down, even though I still had the house. You were there, and you told me to sublet it."
He laughed softly. Since his cigarette was extinguished, and the accompanying breath ceased, it was the only sound besides the crickets. It rumbled, as if coming from the depths of his chest. With her eyes closed, it seemed as if this - his low, quiet laugh - was the only thing present in the night. She opened her eyes.
He was looking straight ahead, the meager light from a gas station window just barely illuminated the angles of his face. The night was that intense dark that comes less than an hour before daybreak, drowning out nearly everything in sight. The crickets continued their steady twittering, but otherwise the earth seemed barren, and she thought that it would be safe to kiss him, lost in this big empty space.
And suddenly she felt a wave of remorse so powerful that she had to look away from him, focusing instead on the slight glow of the smoldering cigarette in the ashtray between them. When they'd kissed previously, in the day since his return, it was always a prelude to sex, which was easy and familiar between them. When she'd said, 'I love you' it wasn't as hard as she would've imagined; the feeling had grown in her slowly enough. But earlier that evening, in her bedroom, when they'd exchanged only the slightest touch, she'd nearly panicked.
The tiny red light dimmed until it was only a pinprick in the blackness, and then disappeared.
*I want to apologize, but I don't think I can even explain what's wrong. I don't understand why I can laugh at the things I used to be afraid of, but the things that should come naturally scare me. I don't understand why I can sleep so easily next to you and not look at you when I wake up. I don't understand why I feel like I can only kiss you when the world's ended. *
"Dawn's gonna need some money," he said, saving her from her thoughts. He turned his head towards her with a slight tilt, and if he could sense her uneasiness, he didn't show it. "This place sells ice cream."
Buffy sat up and looked out the window at the convenience store and the highway beyond it. "Where are we?"
"Just outside Colorado, I think, but we'll have to stop at the next exit; almost morning."
Buffy nodded and opened the car door, stretching her legs out one at a time before getting out of the car.
"Buffy?"
Her body tensed, and for a moment she was terrified that somehow he'd managed to read her thoughts, and now he'd call her on it, make her explain..
"Tell her not to forget my chocolate cone," Spike said. And he lit another cigarette.
*
When they stopped at the motel, the edges of the sky were already beginning to lighten. Dawn walked inside main office confidently, her teenage maturity only slightly betrayed by the bubble-gum ice cream cone in her hand.
Spike followed closely behind her. Though weary from driving, he'd found new strength in his mission to devour his ice cream as completely as possible. He leaned against the wall of the office, safely out of range of any surprise sunlight attacks, and concentrated on extracting each bit of chocolate from what remained of the chewed-up sugar cone.
Buffy took her time catching up, still feeling lethargic from having slept too much. By the time she entered, Dawn was already negotiating with the clerk, and she smiled involuntarily at seeing her sister this way - knowledgeable, self-possessed, so far from the frightened young girl who'd once hidden from a hell god.
"But if you could just put an extra like, cot, in the room," Dawn was saying to the middle-aged man. "Then you wouldn't have to charge us a lot more, right?"
Buffy looked over at Spike just as he thrust his tongue into the bottom of the sugar cone to lick away the remaining ice cream, and suddenly she felt wide awake.
"Actually," she said, moving to Dawn's side. "We should probably get two rooms."