Done Waiting - chapter 8

I can't remember the last time I went out of my way to make someone happy. I don't mean in a 'if I do this it'll shut them up' kinda way. I mean do anything, give anything to make them smile. I gave my life to save Dawn but I didn't really want to be around anymore anyway. I gave my blood to Angel but that was 'cos I wanted him around. I ran hell for leather after Riley but that was 'cos Xander told me to. I'm sure I've done little things but I can't remember them. Maybe I thought it was enough to keep the world safe, that my reward for that was to be allowed to do what I wanted. Always do things my way.

It's never bothered me before but now... now I'm sitting with the man who turned his life upside down for me. Even though he knew it mightn't make a difference.

I don't think I've ever felt like such a complete failure before.

So I have a new mission - find out what makes Spike smile. Dawn is high on the list so I'm gonna make sure they get plenty of time together. Added bonus - selfish as it is - is that Dawn listens to Spike a hell of a lot more than she ever listens to me. Which might mean she won't flunk classes, piss off Social Services or steal my clothes so much. Here's hoping.

What else makes him smile? T.V. sometimes. Okay, let's get him hooked up with cable. Or get it here and give him a free pass. Maybe the free pass alone would make him smile.

Blood makes him smile. Well, duh! So I keep a stock in the fridge - might be able to do a deal with the blood bank, so long as it isn't illegal. Only, what if the soul means he won't drink human blood? I'll have to ask. There's always Slayer blood, that's supposed to be irresistible. I could - maybe - siphon off a little once a week as a weekend treat. It's totally icky but... so's unhappy Spike.

Maybe I can get him some CD's or something. 'Cos I think all his music went kablooey when I blew up his crypt. Oh man, I'm gonna have to help clean that up. Yuck. But it's totally within mission parameters. In fact, if I can't even do that then I might as well not bother with the rest. And that's not an option. Maybe Willow will help. She's so into the cleaning and helping thing right now. Yeah, she... isn't an option either. I've got to do this alone. Oh! And if I get CD's he can have the stereo that used to be in mom's room, 'cos I bet he'd have nothing to listen to them on otherwise. Okay, this is good. Getting a list here.

What else?

Spicy buffalo wings and onion thingies. So I'll take him to the Bronze. No biggy.

His duster. Oh my God, how could I forget? His frigging duster!!!!!!

"Buffy, where you going, luv?"

"Just stay there, Spike. I totally forgot something in my room. Just hang on. Please." I'm already at the top of the stairs and heading for my room. It's in the wardrobe. I knew if I left it downstairs Dawn or someone would put it in the trash. Maybe even burn it. I don't like where it came from but it's too important to Spike to let it get lost. It's amazing how soft this thing is. The leather's worn down in places, with repair marks all over it. Who does the repairing? It would be just too freaky if Spike can sew. I don't really understand how it's survived so long. 'Cos the number of fights Spike's been in it should be totally... well, trashed. And I need the name of his dry cleaner 'cos I can never stop the blood and demon guts from making my leather stuff hard as nails. Okay, enough. Standing here mooning over a stupid coat is not how I plan to spend what's left of the night.

I roll the duster up as small as I can as I walk down the stairs, then hide it behind my back before I go in the front room.

"All sorted, pet?" The look on his face is calmer than earlier, not so haunted, but it's still too much. Oh baby, I promise I'll make you smile.

"All sorted. Here, I thought you'd want this." And I can't help grinning as I hold my surprise out to him. He responds to my smile with an almost smile of his own. Until he looks down. And then his face... oh God, he looks like he did in the bathroom. After. When he realised what he'd done. No. No! It wasn't meant to be like this! I was trying to make him happy, dammit!

" You...you... kept it. It's been in your home, all this time. You've looked at it... touched... Bloody hell, why? Why?" He's hunched over, gripping his hair. Like he wants to pull it out. What have I done?

"Spike. Spike!" I'm kneeling in front of him. But he won't look at me. Why won't he look at me?

I try to touch him but he rears back. Still won't look at me. Dammit, this is all wrong. This shouldn't be happening. I can't think. I don't know what to do.

"Sorry. Sorry. I'm so fucking sorry! What I did. What I've done. I shouldn't be here. It's not right. Tainting you. Blackening you. It's all wrong." He tries to stand, tries to move past me. No, not gonna happen. I won't let you leave Spike. Not again.

I'm standing as well, leaning into him, trying to edge him back down. He won't let me touch him. Leans away from me. I never thought Spike trying not to touch me would horrify me. Always thought it would be the other way round. After all, how many times did I tell him he was disgusting and I didn't want him touching me? Talk about getting what you wish for. It's such a sudden change. Only I guess it isn't, 'cos he's avoided me most of the night, only holding me when he knew I needed comfort. Those other moments when I needed to feel him he either didn't notice or didn't want to. And he hasn't let me near him. What's happening here? How did it get so fucked up? But this is even worse, 'cos now he doesn't want to be anywhere near me. And I need him. It's so clear now. I guess he just doesn't need me.

But I was supposed to be figuring out what he does need. I thought his duster might...give him back some of his...cockiness. It seems to've done the opposite but I don't know why. If I can get him to talk to me, tell me what's wrong, then I can fix it. Somehow. There's gotta be a way. Whatever it takes - even if it's a beating. After all, he did the same for me. Okay, not my best plan ever. There's been so much hurting already, how could anymore help? But it's all I know how to do. Hit things till the problem goes away. Think it'll work this time?

He's trying to slip by me. Damn it, a moment's distraction and he's off. I grab his arm. I won't let him go. I can't. He freezes but won't look at me.

"Let go, Slayer. This is no good. Let me be." He's not moving but I can feel the tension under his skin. It's so familiar from all those times when he waited for the okay to touch me, knowing I might run. Funny - in a so not ha ha way - that he's the one trying to do the running and I'm the one desperate to touch.

"No, Spike. Can't do that. Can't. I...I.....need you to stay, need you to talk to me. Please?"

He looks up, startled. Oh, yeh, never told him I needed him before. Would've made him happy once. Now I think it just pisses him off.

"No, luv, you don't. You don't need anything I can give you 'cos I've got nothing good to give. Wish I did, but there you go. Not something I've got much control over. Thought I did. After all, I was able to make you scream in pleasure, release. Scream my name. I thought it meant something. Well, it did mean something. And maybe you did need me then. But it wasn't good. If it had been you wouldn't have been ashamed. You wouldn't have been scared of it. Wasn't supposed to hurt you but it did. And then I hurt you. So you see, nothing good. Nothing decent. You deserve decent, Buffy. You deserve the good things. I didn't get it before but I do now. I'm a walking obscenity, something I used to proud of even if I didn't see myself that way. Can't be proud of it anymore and I won't let it taint you. You're too precious for that. Just forgot for a mo, that's all. Let me go. Please."

Talk about turning the tables. Walking obscenity? I used to think that. Okay, so I didn't put it that clearly. Words? Not my thing. But...that's not what I see when I look at Spike now. 'Cos how can so much love, so much sacrifice be anything but bright? He used to glow, you know? His love used to make him shine and looking at it hurt my eyes, hurt my soul. Oh I see what he's saying but he's got it all wrong. It didn't hurt 'cos I was good and the light was bad. No, it was the other way round. I couldn't feel good or bright or special. All I felt was dead. I'd died and they forgot to bury me. Only they hadn't, they just made me get up again. If I'd known I might not have clawed my way out. Yeh, a slow death but preferable to how I felt all year and so much better than what I feel right now. And again it's Spike who holds the possibility of feeling something better. Only this time he doesn't want the job.

Through all these thoughts I haven't taken my eyes of him, haven't lightened my grip. After that startled look he turned his face away but I know he can feel me watching him. He's prepared to wait. Guess he always was. For a guy who made impatience an art, he was so very patient with me. Just another sign of how much he cared. Well, I can be patient too. But it won't mean much if I let him go out the front door. 'Cos this time he won't come back.

"Well, Spike, I never thought you'd pull an Angel."

Oh that's good. That got a reaction. He's actually pulled out of my grasp but only so he can face me. No sliding away of the eyes this time, buddy.

"Pulling an Angel? Don't you dare compare me to that wanker. We're nothing alike, you hear? Bloody soul-having poof, all holier that thou and prancing about like he's gonna save the world single-handed. Bemoaning his fate and his past. Not bloody having it, you hear. I'll never, never be like him."

"Then don't leave." He looks like a fish, mouth hanging open. Suddenly I feel very calm. I know I can make it okay.

"What?"

"Don't leave. Not 'cos you think it's for my own good. That's what he did. Didn't care what I wanted or what his leaving did to me. Just decided it was what I needed and went. You always used to have staying power. Show me you've still got it."

"But...but....."

"No buts. I'm not saying stop being - I don't know - confused or angry or whatever it is that's making you wanna run. Just saying talk to me. Don't leave me with no choices. Trust me. And as for not being like Angel, I didn't think you were, but the list you reeled off? Sounded almost like you were talking about yourself. Might wanna think about that too."

"Are you calling me holier than thou?" There's a look of absolute amazement on his face. I don't think I've seen him look so offended before. I can't help giggling. Which doesn't help. But it's nice to know I can laugh. That it's because of Spike. Maybe he'll realise that.

"No, honey, never you. But you are being kinda...self-righteous, ya know?"

He looks so confused. I never thought I could ache inside 'cos of Spike, not in a 'I gotta make it better' way. But I do. I kinda wish I had a bit of Willow's magic, a bit of her 'my-will-be-done' spell, so I can just wave my hand and make him okay. But there's no short cuts. We both know that. Uh oh, the confusion's been replaced by determination so I guess that means I've gotta get back to work. Mission Happy Spike has still got a long way to go.

"I'm not bloody self-righteous. And don't call me honey. It's not appropriate."

That's it. The tension in me snaps and I fall to the floor, gasping for air. Almost before I hit the ground Spike is at my side, trying to find out what's wrong. He looks totally freaked when I start laughing.

"It's...'snort'...it's...'snort, gasp'...not appropriate?...'sob'..... Oh my god...'gasp'...that's so...'snort'...funny!!!!!"

He's gone back to looking offended. Then, as I try to get control of my laughter, I see the hint of a smile. When I reach for his hand he doesn't pull back. Now, Buffy, don't push this. Don't grab and snatch. Patience. I can do patience.

I've stopped laughing but I'm still smiling, trying not to be all big grins and scary. Spike's not used to me smiling and I don't wanna freak him out anymore. He helps me up and we're face to face.

"When has there ever been anything appropriate about us? Appropriate equals normal equals not Buffy. It's not something that ever bothered you before. Bit late now." Crap, wrong thing to say. Now I'm standing again and he's pulled his hand away. Pulled himself away from me. How do I talk to him, reach him, when all I've ever tried to do before was the opposite? The calm. Gotta be calm again. Stop this tension that's still in the room from growing. Touching him makes it worse somehow, so I mustn't touch. However much I want to. God, it's like learning a new language. And knowing my skill with French - or rather lack of it - that's a scary thought. Talking with Spike used to be a kind of sign language. Or body language. Ignore what's spoken and look at what's done. He knows words, used them on me in so many ways, but I never learnt to use then back. How do you say sorry in Spike-speak? Without using sex. Gifts, that's how. But when I tried that I screwed up. So try a different gift, something of mine rather than returning something of his. Got it! But.it's upstairs. If I leave the room he's gone be out that door like a flash.

"Spike, if I asked you to keep a promise, would you?"

"D'know, Slayer. Thought I always would but I broke my promise not to hurt you, so who knows?" Oh Spike, we've really gotta get past that.

"But you kept the one about Dawn. And the promise about hurting me is debatable. Not that I wanna debate it now. If I go upstairs for a minute d o you promise to still be here when I get back?"

He looks at me then. I can see his mind working from the flickering if his eyes. The weighing up of thoughts. It shouldn't be that hard a question but then everything between us is hard so I guess I'm not surprised. Please, please say you'll stay.

"Just until I get back. Then if you really can't talk to me, if you really have to go then that's it. The promise only holds till I come back down, okay?"

"Yeh, alright. I promise I'll stay till you come back. Then all bets are off, right?"

"Right." I race up the stairs, listening out for movement downstairs in case he decides to just go, 'bugger the promise'. Thank God I left the light on in my room so I can just run in, grab what I need and run out again. This time I don't bother hiding my present behind my back as I go back in the front room. I'm holding it in front of me, letting him see it. Letting him know there's nothing to be scared of.

"What d'you need that for, Buffy? I already know what the Summers women look like." But as I hold it out to him he still takes the picture frame out of my hands. As I watch he gently runs his fingertips over the image of mom, Dawn and me laughing. There's such a gentle look of love and yearning on his face, all touched by loss and sadness. I can feel the tears at the back of my eyes but now is not the time.

"I don't want you to go, Spike, but if that's what you've gotta do then... well, you should take this. You've loved us all and been part of all our lives. You should always keep a bit of us with you, don't you think?" All I can do know is wait, praying this is enough to open a gap in the wall between us. I built it but now I want to tear it down. Never thought that Spike would be the one to add the gun towers and razor wire. Huh, just got an image of Anya as a guard dog. Going by earlier she really needs a leash. But she's loyal. I should maybe use her as a role model. If I'd felt any loyalty in the past we wouldn't be here now. If I'd been loyal, then I would have been honest. Then we could talk. Or maybe we wouldn't need to. It totally sucks that hindsight is twenty-twenty.

But he's still here, hasn't run. He's gone back to stroking the picture. Is it enough?

"I can't take this, pet. It's too precious. You need it more than me, need to see how happy you were, know how happy you can be." And he' s trying to put it back in my hands. When I won't take it he puts it on the coffee table.

This is it then. He's really gonna go.

"So much for appropriate. Don't you know how rude it is to refuse a gift? Please take it. If you're worried about me missing it, don't be. I've got the negative and I'll run off another print. I want you to have it. It would upset me a lot more for you to leave it behind than for you to take it." His back is to me as he stands in the doorway, head down, like he's too tired to hold it up.

I carry the picture over to him and gently touch his shoulder. Mustn't scare him. He flinches but doesn't pull away. Just sighs. Then he turns to me and accepts my gift.

"Thank you. Are we done now?" It hurts that he's so desperate to leave. Especially as I know it's my fault even if I still haven't figured out quite why.

"No, we're not done. I said I wouldn't stop you going and I won't, even though I want to. But please, please be sure that's what you wanna do. I'm trying not to make demands, probably failing. But...but...I want to understand. Will you talk to me? I'll try to listen. I'm not good at it but I really will try." And I'm trying not to grab his hand and pull him to the couch. Trying to be patient. Trying not to beg. It's easier than I thought. Maybe it's always easier when you try to do something for someone you care about.