CRADLE
Disclaimer, etc as on Chapter One
A/N: Okay, so I apologise once more for the cliffhanger. At least there was Spuffy! And there'll be some more in this chapter, too, hopefully, and it'll be angstier… Just how will Buffy and Spike take the news about her having to go to England? Haha, read on and find out :D Also, this chapter sees Spike's acceptance in the group reaching a new level through yet another of those seemingly pointless conversations, a little bit of Giles angst to whet your appetite for more angst later on, and, yes, more Spuffy. Cos I love ya.
P.S: Re: England. I've forgotten quite when this is meant to be set, but let's say it's early October by now, or thereabouts. In which case, if memory serves, England was fairly cold then… Although, Devon being down south and me being in the middle, I'm not exactly the best judge, so. Whatever, it's chilly. And that'll make sense, more or less, when you read the Buffy/Spike conversation in the middle of the chapter.
Cradle
Chapter Twenty-Four
Giles composed himself, taking some healthy breaths. For some reason, breaking bad news to people never seemed to get any less difficult. It was quite a while before he met her eyes again. Buffy, beginning to get impatient, repeated her question.
"Giles. Am I going to get back to normal?"
He sighed. Now or never. "Yes… but…"
"But what?"
"I spoke to the leader of the coven, in Devon. Her name is Vivienne. She said she'll be able to help you. The only problem is that she can't help you while you're here… I have to take you to England. It'll only be for a few days, so the coven can reverse the spell and call back the magic, and then you'll be back here."
Buffy shrugged. "That's fine, Giles. So long as it stops this goddamn itching."
"You don't mind?"
"No. I've never been to England. It'll be fun." She grinned. Giles still looked worried, so she looked more serious. "Honestly. I'm okay with it."
"If you're sure-"
"I'm sure."
At this point, Spike interrupted. "I'm not…" Everyone looked at him. He addressed Giles. "Do you really think she can fly in this state?"
"I checked that with Vivienne. She's a very experienced witch, and she says there'll be no problems with the flight so long as Buffy is asleep for the entirety of it."
"Well, that's easy," she said, "just pop me some sleeping pills and give me one of your research books and I'll out like a light."
Spike turned to her, concerned. "Pet, we've only just got you back from bein' unconscious. Now you want to be out of it again?"
"I never thought I'd say this," said Xander from the other side of the room, "but I have to agree with Spike on that one…"
"Guys. Chill," she said. "It'll be fine."
"Besides which," said Giles, "there is no other option. Believe me, I've tried to think of one. Vivienne was my final hope, and, thankfully, she's come through for me…"
Willow had been listening, and finally felt it was time to comment. "Look, if Giles thinks it's okay, then it must be, right?" There was a murmur of agreement. "Right… And it's not like Buffy'll be gone for good; it's only going to be a few days."
"She has a point," noted Anya.
Willow nodded gratefully. "We can do all the Slayer-stuff for a while. It's not like we haven't done that before…"
"Thank you, Willow," said Buffy, firmly. Clearly, there was going to be no arguing with her on this one, and eventually the Scoobies had to concede defeat. Spike sighed heavily.
"I'm not going to even pretend to like the idea. But if it's got to…" Suddenly, he had a thought, and let his sentence trail off as he pondered the plausibility of it. "Hey, wait a minute. 'Snot like you lot need me to help with the patrollin' and such, so… Why don't I go with you, Buffy?"
She seemed happy with that idea, and looked to Giles to confirm it. He didn't seem impressed by the idea, to say the least, and explained, grimly: "I'm afraid that's not an option…" Before either Spike or Buffy could take that the wrong way, he added, "It's nothing personal. The flight leaves in the morning. It's physically impossible for a vampire to travel that far by air, and not just because of this particular flight. Even if I were to rebook it – which, by the way, is going to be difficult on such short notice – there's still no guarantee we'll arrive after dark."
"You're right…" sighed Buffy. "Geez, how do you cope with these time zones, Giles?"
"Practice," he said, smiling slightly.
"Well, it looks like I have to pack… I take it we're leaving soon?"
He nodded. "Tomorrow morning. I know it's incredibly short notice, but the sooner we get that magic out of you, the better."
"You'll get no arguments from me on that one."
It was becoming exceedingly obvious that Buffy and Giles were going to win the argument about her going to England, so, eventually, everyone conceded defeat. Everyone except Spike, of course, who was holding his own silent (and unsuccessful) protest against the matter. The room had fallen into silence at this point, nobody exactly sure what to say next. Buffy was going to England, and that was that. She had no other options. It was far more practical to take Buffy to England than it was to fly an entire coven to Sunnydale.
It was Xander who broke through the silence, realising that they ought to leave Spike alone with the other two to at least try and talk it through. "Okay, guys, let's go… wash up. Come on, An, you can be Head Scrubber."
"Huh?" she said, her attention focussed on the change she could sense between Buffy and Spike. Then she caught his 'let's-let-them-talk' expression. "Oh, right…"
"Yeah, I'll… dry," added Willow, nudging Dawn as she walked past her.
"And I'll put away," said the brunette, as the four of them filed into the kitchen quietly. General washing-up-type noises started in the kitchen, which meant that they either were washing up, or were listening in and pretending to wash up, but either way, the three remaining in the lounge didn't seem to mind. Buffy had positioned herself on the couch for the duration of the almost-argument, and, getting up, she started to head towards the stairs again.
"Well, I guess I'd better pack. What time's the flight?"
"Seven," said Giles. "You need to be up by four-thirty at the latest."
"Ouch…" she muttered. "Okay, get someone to wake me up."
Giles smiled. "I'm sure we'll think of something."
With that, Buffy smiled and disappeared upstairs once more. Spike had been silent for a while, but Giles could tell he was biting his tongue, and he was grateful that he hadn't made a scene while Buffy was around. The worry was plainly obvious on his face. After a while, though, apparently giving up on the scene entirely, he began to follow Buffy. Before he could get very far, however, Giles cleared his throat.
"Spike…"
The vampire stopped, and faced him. "Yes?"
"I know you're concerned for her well-being. We all are." Spike seemed to wonder what he was getting at, so he changed direction slightly. "I may have been rather harsh to you in the past, but… these last few days, you've proven yourself to all of us, especially Buffy."
Spike wanted to put his hands in his pockets, to fight the overwhelming urge to fidget. Unfortunately, his duster was still upstairs in Buffy's room, and his jeans didn't achieve the desired effect of nonchalance that he was looking for. Instead, he stared diligently at the floor. "Yeah. Well, I had to do something. I love her… I needed to prove that."
"You have," said the ex-Watcher. "We can all see that you do, now. Even Xander, believe it or not – and, although he hasn't forgiven you, exactly, I think he's beginning to understand."
"That's good to know," he muttered. He was beginning to feel decidedly awkward, and was still staring steadfastly at the carpet. Giles, also feeling awkward, still had a few things to say, however.
"She… um… she loves you." His statement was partially a query as to whether Spike knew this, although he was sure he did. At this point, Spike looked up again, the barest flicker of a smile on his face.
"Yeah, she does." Then, just to prove he hadn't gone completely soft, he added, "It took her bloody long enough to realise."
Giles laughed. "Yes…" He cleared his throat again, killing for time. Then, rather too nonchalantly, he added, "I want you to know that you have my blessing… Not that it's my place to say so."
"It's as much your place as anyone's. You're like family to her. And thanks. That means a lot." A slightly more amicable silence passed between them. "I think I'll go and help her pack," he said.
"Yes. Oh, and Spike?"
"Yeah?"
"I'll look after her. I promise."
The irony wasn't lost on him. Usually, it was Spike promising that to Giles, not vice versa. "I know…"
On that more positive note, Spike headed upstairs. He wanted to talk to Buffy. He knew he couldn't talk her out of it – it was pointless, really, because there was no other option – but he wanted to at least make sure she really was fine with it, and not just putting on a façade for the others. Aside from that, he'd only just gotten her back from being unconscious, and he wanted to spend at least a little time with her before she went gallivanting off to England for however long it took.
Alone in the lounge, with the noises of the other Scoobies still laughing as they did the washing up in the kitchen, Giles sat down, and fumbled in his inside pocket for the plane tickets. Taking them out of the envelope, his pre-flight paranoia already kicking in, he checked that they were all present and correct. Yes. In his hand were three tickets. An open return flight for Buffy, depending on how long the process detained her, and a one-way, no-going-back ticket for himself.
What Giles had neglected to tell anyone was that he wasn't going to be coming back from England with Buffy. He'd been too cowardly to tell them. He'd left them twice that year, and doubted they'd forgive him for doing so a third time. The goodbyes got harder every time. After Buffy's death, their "as-if-we'd-make-a-scene" scene at the airport had almost made him want to stay, and he couldn't have that happening, not this time.
He'd never got to say goodbye to Buffy, either time he'd left. The first time, she wasn't even there. Then, the second time, she'd been too angry to even see him before the flight, feeling hurt and betrayed that he was leaving her at a time when, in her opinion, she needed him the most. In fact, only Xander and Anya had been there at the airport, and the latter could hardly look at him due to the embarrassment she felt after the kiss they'd mistakenly shared under Willow's spell. Willow had been too wrapped up in trying to save her relationship with Tara to think of anything else; Tara, likewise, was doing her own leaving, and she, at least, understood why his departure was the best thing for everyone. And Dawn… Dawn had no way of getting to the airport, because Buffy had been wallowing in self-pity and "bad kissing decisions" at the Bronze.
So, Buffy would be the only one he got to say goodbye to, this time. That was how he wanted it. He knew it was going to be painful, and she wouldn't be happy about it… but he wasn't prepared to keep on bailing everyone out when they got themselves into minor trouble. Apocalypses, fine, then he was perfectly willing to help in any way he could. But he couldn't always be there to help them through their lives; they had to do that themselves. He'd been a catalyst for them while he'd been around, but now it was up to each and every one of the Scoobies to carry on off their own bat.
And Buffy would hate him forever for making her be the one to explain it all to them when she got back, but she'd get over it. He almost hated to admit it, but now she had Spike around, she needed him less.
"Hey, G-man, whatcha doin'?" Xander's voice cut through his thoughts, and he hastily stuffed the tickets back into their envelope, and into his pocket again.
"Just checking on the tickets. You know, pre-flight nerves and all that."
He nodded, as the others came out of the kitchen, chattering amongst themselves. Anya was drying her hands on a tea-towel as she talked to Willow, and Dawn wiped her hands on the front of her jeans. Giles watched them as Xander took a seat next to him and searched for the (still broken) remote control for the television, and he suddenly realised they'd be absolutely fine without him. He'd managed to reunite Anya with the rest of the group, and she was steadily on her way to a recovering relationship with Xander, although they had a long way to go; Dawn would probably continue to train as a Slayer with Buffy and Spike's help; Willow, aside from her current lack of magic, was far better than she had been; and Xander had matured, he noticed, after the fight with Spike. Their conversation in the car had proven that much. They're all going to be fine. Everything's going to be all right…
Xander clicked the remote a few times, each time pressing harder, but nothing happened. "Dawnster! While you're over there, turn on the TV, would you?"
She rolled her eyes, but obliged anyway. "What am I, your servant now?"
"Oh, ignore him," said Anya. "He just thinks he's superior because he's male." To Giles, she added, "No offence…"
He smiled to indicate none was taken, and shuffled down the couch to make room for her and Willow, while Dawn, rather perturbed, sat herself on the floor at the latter's feet. They sat and watched the seemingly endless commercials for a while until the show started, at which point, Xander groaned.
"Mork and Mindy?? Do we have to watch this?"
"Yeah," said Dawn, "unless you wanna get up and change the channel…"
He muttered something that caused Anya to giggle, but that nobody else heard, and they conceded to watch the programme. At the far end of the couch, Giles smiled to himself, suddenly feeling a lot better about leaving them. All he had to deal with now, was how to break the news to Buffy once they got to England…
Buffy's door was half-open as Spike reached the top of the stairs. There were various thumps emanating from within the room as she searched for things, and he approached somewhat cautiously in case he got caught in the crossfire. Peering into the room, he could see clothes strewn about the place, both wardrobe doors wide open, and a half-empty suitcase, into which a few things had been haphazardly flung. A small overnight bag also sat next to it, half of its contents tipped onto the bed. Buffy wasn't anywhere to be seen.
Carefully, he knocked on the door. "Buffy?"
"Come in…" she said, from somewhere within. He pushed the door open fully and entered, just as she re-emerged from the wardrobe with her arms full of clothing. She looked at him. "Hey, you're the expert. How cold is it in England, anyway? I mean, are we talking hats and scarves, or will I be okay with a sweater?"
He laughed. "It's been a fair few decades since I could tell you, pet. Take layers…"
"Right, layers it is." So saying, she dumped the pile onto the bed along with everything else and began sorting through it with the ease of one who regularly makes order out of chaos. "God, I wish I knew how long this was going to take…"
"Same here…"
Apparently unaware of the worry in his tone, she continued, "I'll just pack enough for a week and live with it…"
Spike watched her in silence as she sorted the clothes into the suitcase, then made himself useful by attempting to put away the things in the pile she'd deemed 'unsuitable for England'. This in itself proved to be fairly tricky as he had no idea where anything she owned actually went, and he was constantly asking questions. It registered that she didn't seem to mind the fact that he was rooting around in her wardrobe, but he didn't mention it. Several minutes later, she'd finished packing the case, with far too many for any normal person to be able to close it again afterwards, and put the overnight bag in the middle, thus making the load even bigger. Using her Slayer strength, she clipped it shut with no difficulty, and hauled it onto the floor by the door, ready for the morning.
Looking around afterwards, prepared to put everything away that she'd left out, she seemed almost surprised to find nothing there. She'd only been half-paying attention to Spike, despite giving instructions. "Oh… Thanks, Spike…"
"No problem," he said, although he had got a problem. This time, however, now her attention wasn't entirely focussed elsewhere, she detected the façade he was putting on.
"You're really not okay with this, are you?"
He shook his head, kicking at a stain on her carpet with the toe of his boot. "Not really, no." With a heavy, defeated sigh, he continued, "I mean, I know it's the only option. It's just…"
"You don't want me to go now you've just got me back?"
"Exactly…"
She looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "Spike, sit down a minute…" He looked up to see her indicating for him to take his seat in the chair again, and he obliged, a little curiously. Once he was seated, she sat on the edge of the bed, opposite him, looking serious. She took a deep breath. "We need to talk. I think you know that."
"Yeah. I wish we didn't have to, though."
"Me, neither… but… if we're going to make anything work between us, we've got to put everything behind us. And the only way to do that is to talk about it."
"Now?"
"No. That's my point." She reached out to take his hands, and pulled back again instantly with a curse as the sparks crackled between them. Pulling her long sleeves down to cover her hands, she tried again. "See? How can I talk to you if that's going to happen every time I touch you?"
"I suppose you're right, love… I want that stuff out of you about as much as you do, it's just… you're going so soon. And God knows how long you're gonna be away."
"Well, we've got…" She checked her watch – it was early afternoon. "We've got at least ten hours, maybe more, depending on how much sleep I wanna get before this flight. In fact, I may as well just stay up all night."
"As tempting as spending ten hours with you sounds," he said, "you should spend it with your friends."
"Yeah…" she agreed. "But there's no reason you shouldn't join me, right?"
He beamed at her. "You're sure they won't mind?"
"I'm pretty sure they won't. Besides, you should spend some more time with Dawn. And anyway, if they object, they'll have to answer to me."
Spike was lost for words. He'd been accepted by three people in the same twenty-four hours – first Xander, although indirectly, then Giles, and finally, by Buffy, to spend time with her friends. Things were definitely looking up. Shaking his head at his sudden good luck, he tried to kiss her, but was stopped by her sleeve-covered hand on his mouth.
"Still high-voltage Buffy, remember?"
She got up and started to head downstairs, taking the packed case with her. After a thoughtful pause, Spike followed her. At least if he started as he intended to go on, by making friends – proper friends, not just acquaintances that he was refraining from eating – with the gang, then maybe Buffy's absence wouldn't be so difficult after all. At least he'd have someone to talk to in the form of Dawn, at the very least. Maybe even Willow, after the conversation they'd had after the fight. And perhaps he could even hold a civil conversation with the Whe… with Xander, for Buffy's sake if no-one else's.
Listening to the chattering, laughing voices in the lounge, he suddenly realised it might not even be as difficult as he'd anticipated…
Next morning, 4.45am…
"Where the Hell did I put my case?!"
"It's by the front door, love, where you left it yesterday…"
Buffy had been frantically running around trying to sort out non-existent problems, which had somehow miraculously manifested themselves overnight. The Scoobies were all standing in the lounge watching her as she ran about the ground floor, and Spike was following her around in an attempt to calm her down. As he didn't seem to mind, they left him to it, watching the entire scene with some amusement. They would have slept through it, had Buffy's frantic running about not woken them all up.
She ran into the kitchen and flung open the fridge, pulling out some cellophane-wrapped sandwiches before closing it again and running back into the hallway, stuffing them into a rucksack. Then, after a second's thought, she ran back in there again and grabbed two drinks cans, running past Spike going in the opposite direction. She stopped, finally, and did a mental count of everything she needed to take. As an afterthought, she headed to the weapons chest and grabbed a stake.
"Planning on doing some Slaying, are we?"
She shrugged. "You never know what might happen…" As she stuffed it down the side of the rucksack, Giles nonchalantly came down the stairs, picked up her case (on the second attempt, with a grunt), and went out to put it in the car. Buffy looked up to find it gone and panicked again. "Now where's it gone?"
Giles came back in. "Buffy, calm down… It's in the car."
She settled down slightly, taking a deep, calming breath to put her nerves at ease. "Sorry, I'm just… I want to make sure everything's fine before I leave."
"I know," said the older man. "But there's no need to panic. I'm sure Spike will make sure everything's kept in order."
"Uh, yeah," he said, surprised by the vote of confidence. "No nasties are going to get in, trust me."
"And patrolling-"
"Will be taken care of. Stop worrying…"
There was momentary silence after the previous activity, then, suddenly, she left out a "Dammit!" and started running up the stairs. Spike ran after her and caught up with her halfway, forcibly dragging her back downstairs again.
"What now?"
"I forgot to pack a jacket…"
He sighed heavily. "Bloody hell… All right, fine, wait there and I'll get one. You're too flustered to think straight."
"Thanks…" While he went upstairs, she started calming herself down again and headed into the lounge to say goodbye to her friends. "Okay, I guess this is it… I wish I could hug you, but, y'know…"
"It's okay," said Willow, "we'll save them all for when you're back, all healthy and non-electric."
"I'll try not to be too long, guys, I promise. Just, uh, try not to get killed or start a war or anything…"
"Buff, chill." That was Xander. "It's not like we haven't worked without you before."
"Yeah," said Anya. "We'll be fine."
Buffy smiled at them all by way of thanks, and turned as she heard Spike coming down the stairs again. He had retrieved and was wearing his duster, but had apparently failed in his attempt to find her a jacket.
"Um, I thought you were getting me a jacket."
"I have," he said, cryptically. "Well, more of a coat, really…" So saying, he met her halfway out of the lounge and removed the duster. "Here." He held it out, and, a little shocked, she turned so he could help her into it. It was miles too big; the sleeves completely covered her hands and it touched the floor, but she didn't seem to mind.
"Wow… are you sure?"
"Yes. It's warmer than those pathetic denim things of yours, and… I thought… it might remind you of me… or something…"
She moved as if to hug him and then simultaneously remembered that she couldn't and shrugged instead. "Thank you…"
"Yeah, well, just be careful with it…" he said, mock-defensively. Then, quieter, he added, "And be careful with yourself…"
"I will." There was a moment of silence between them where they merely stared at each other with mutual understanding. Giles didn't want to disturb the moment, but, seeing that they were going to be late if they didn't hurry, he had very little choice.
He cleared his throat. "Buffy. We need to go."
"Okay." Tearing her gaze from Spike's, she picked up her over-stuffed rucksack and followed Giles out to the waiting car. She took one last look around and shouted "'Bye, guys!" to the general direction of the lounge. She was answered by varying "See ya, Buffy"s and "Good luck!"s from the assembled Scoobies. "'Bye, Spike…"
"'Bye, pet."
Smiling, she turned and left the house, allowing Spike to close the door after her as she hurled her rucksack into the back seat of the car and prepared to get in. Giles, ever the gentleman, held open the door for her and waited for her to get in. Just as she was about to, Spike called after her, not venturing out for fear of the early morning sunlight, but hovering in the doorway.
"Buffy?"
"Yeah?"
He hesitated, as if he'd been going to say something incredibly long-winded and had suddenly changed his mind. Instead, he simply smiled, and said, "I love you."
He wasn't anticipating a reply, or even that she'd say it back, because he knew she still needed time, even after already telling him. And if her promise the night before that she'd meant it still held true, then, for now, he didn't need her to say it back. He just felt the need to tell her anyway, just so she knew.
"I know," she said. Then, getting into the car as Giles shut the door after her, she rolled down the window and stuck her head out. "A-and you know I…"
He didn't wait for her to struggle with it. "Yeah, I know…"
Giles got in, and started the car. Fighting down her sudden feeling that she didn't want to go after all, Buffy waved from the car window, as her other friends joined Spike in the doorway and out on the porch. They all waved and shouted words of farewell as the car pulled off the driveway and onto the road, and disappeared from view as it turned the corner. Shrugging defeatedly, and hoping for the best, everyone started to file back inside, and set about something resembling a normal routine.
Approximately two hours later, at seven o'clock, Spike was up in Buffy's room, staring out of her window, with a blanket over his head to protect from the sunlight pouring into the room. The familiar white streak of an aeroplane engine moved slowly across the pale blue sky, and he sighed. He only became aware of the other presence in the room when a hand landed firmly on his shoulder.
"How's it going, Broody the Second?" Xander stood next to him at the window, watching the same patch of sky. "Well… there she goes. Off to good ol' England.
"Yeah," he muttered, not really wanting company, but trying to be civil nonetheless.
Xander could tell he wasn't wanted, and didn't push his luck. In truth, he'd been sent up by Willow, whose tone had been too authoritative for him to refuse, who wanted to make sure Spike was okay. Other than looking slightly sunburnt, however, he obviously wasn't in immediate danger of damaging himself, and seemed to only be moping. "Okay, just checking… We're, uh, gonna start formulating a patrol rota in a few minutes, if you wanna help out."
Spike eyed him curiously, but didn't ask questions. "Right. Yeah… I'll be down in a minute."
Xander patted his shoulder somewhat awkwardly, and vacated the room. Spike watched the plane's path a little longer until the plane itself became a tiny white dot and finally disappeared, then he rolled his eyes at himself, and followed Xander down the stairs, bundling the blanket into a messy ball as he went. If he was going to make friends, he'd better start now. And in any case, it was better than brooding like Peaches until Buffy came home again…
To be continued…
A/N: Okay, not such an evil cliffhanger this time. And I gave you Spuffy! Yay! And I apologise for the, according to my not-a-beta and partner in crime, Cyril, "unexpected and mean thing with Giles", but there's a purpose, I promise… Keep those reviews coming! I need 40 more to reach my new target of 200, and it's all up to you lovely people :)
