TITLE: " Garden of Eden "
AUTHOR: LilHairyEyeball
FEEDBACK: Gimme gimme. Just be gentle.
SUMMARY: Alternate Season Four fic, stemming from Something Blue onwards.
SPOILERS: Up through Season 4
RATING: Giving it an R rating, in case I get frisky. Which I tend to do.
DISCLAIMER: Nobody buys me good presents, so I steal other peoples
---
"Slayer, wait up!" Spike called, as he jogged up to the Slayer, who was marching towards Revello Drive with squared shoulders and a look of sheer determination in her face.
"Spike, not now. I want to go home, get out of these clothes, and eat ice cream. A lot of ice cream. Preferably chocolate chip."
Spike grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop. That was his first mistake of the night, it was clear. He was now faced with a brassed off slayer, one who would kick his ass for ice cream. Buffy simply stared pointedly at the hand on her arm, until Spike carefully removed the offending appendage. It didn't stop him from staying in her personal space though, and giving her that look. The sincere one, that made her insides all gooshy. She hated that.
"Spike. Please?" There was almost a pleading tone in her voice now. "I've just had enough today. I want to go to my house, get pampered by my mother, and pretend things are normal. Just for a while."
Spike took a step back, and nodded in silent understanding.
"If you need anything. To talk or...whatever, I'll be about. Yeah?" When he got the affirmative, he turned tail and headed into the night. The Slayer sighed, and went into her home.
---
Joyce watched as her daughter stormed about the kitchen, preparing a feast of ice cream and syrup. Oh yes, something was wrong. Now the real question would be how to approach it. No doubt it involved her slayer duties, but try as she might, she just couldn't understand her daughters calling. Or her friends. Or her clothes.
"Mom? Why are you staring at me like that?" asked Buffy, watching with interest as her mother shrugged off whatever middle-aged emotions were going around her head.
Joyce sighed, sitting on a stool, and patting the one next to her, indicating that it was talk time.
"Honey. I know you don't like to talk about your slaying, but sometimes I wonder if you don't need an outlet. You look miserable."
Buffy automatically took the defensive.
"I'm not miserable! Honest! See?" she said, taking in a spoonful of ice cream "happy Buffy!"
Joyce frowned, "but..."
"No. No butts. I'm just tired is all, and I do talk about stuff. There's Willow for the girl talks, Xander for the random talks, Giles for the slayage stuff and Spike..."
"Spike?" asked Joyce with surprise. The surprise soon turned to a look of introspection. "I suppose that does make sense. He's been around for a very long time, and he's so understanding. Such a polite young boy."
"Mom. He's as old as dirt. He's not a young boy." Said Buffy with the roll of her eyes.
"Maybe. But he's got the appearance of a young man. And he treats the adults with respect"
"Apart from Giles," snorted Buffy.
"Apart from Giles," agreed Joyce. "But then, I would be less and cordial to a man who had me chained to a bathtub as well."
"Mom!" cried out Buffy, "He's a vampire? Try to remember that, next time you want to advocate for his human rights. He has none."
"No dear, but he has feelings, and that should count for something."
---
Buffy had tried to sleep for hours, and it just wasn't working. It was all her mothers fault. Entirely. Had to bring Spike's stupid feelings into it, and his...what did she call them? "Victorian sensibilities?" Yeah mom, that's why he goes all weird when he sees the short skirts. Because he's a "gentleman" Hah.
Buffy sighed, before rolling over, and crawling out of bed. Sleep was so not an option right now. Not when she's thinking about what Spike might be thinking, and oh God, there she goes again. Super perfect headache thoughts. Time to go kill something.
She had just finished shimmying down the drainpipe, when she slammed into a body with a yelp. Whipping around, fist ready to fly, she relaxed when she recognized her pillow. Spike.
"Spike? What are you doing in my yard at two o'clock in the morning?"
Spike shrugged, kicking the dirt with his foot.
"Just checkin' on you. Make sure you weren't wigging or anything." He braced himself for the argument, so imagine his surprise when she laughed.
At his questioning look, Buffy just giggled louder.
"Wigging? Oh wow, you have been hanging out with me way too much. You'll be doomed to sound like a Scooby"
Spike shrugged again. "S'worth it." A simple reply that soon wiped the smile from Buffy's face, and replaced it with a look of confusion.
"Huh? I mean...no, I mean huh? What's worth it? What is it, exactly?"
Now it was Spike's turn to laugh, as he digested her babble.
"The permanent bastardization of my vocabulary, pet. It's worth it, if I get to spend time with you."
There it was again. That vulnerable look that made Buffy just want to wrap him up and promise him safety.
"Oh," was the most she could muster. What the hell could she say to that?
Spike, uncomfortable with the well, uncomfortable silence, decided that a diversionary tactic was needed, and fast.
"So, you up for a spot of slaying, luv? There's a new nest down by the wharf. They're probably heading back there now, before the sun starts to rise."
Buffy nodded, and they head into the night. Sometimes things were just better left unsaid.
---
By the time the raid was over, Buffy felt on top of the world. It was weird, the way Spike and she managed to silently communicate through a fight, yet still chatted about the mundane things, through the dust. Weird but good. That pretty much summed up their relationship at the moment. Whatever it was.
Not that it was a relationship. No. Just because she'd blown off potential dates, got bummed out when he left, and wanted to spend her free time with him. She just ...she just wanted to spend time with him. And resume the kissing. Because she's heard hell is the loveliest place in summer, and she was doomed to go there, for lusting after another vamp.
