Title: Bittersweet Realizations

Rating: PG-13 for language and violence

Disclaimer: Buffy tvs is owned by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, I'm just borrowing them for the purposes of this story, some scenes / dialogue is from LMPTM with added scenes before, during and after the episode.

Spoilers: Set during season 7 episode "Lies My Parents Told Me"

Feedback: May be provided here or sent to aeryncrichton@hotmail.com

Subject: Additional scenes before, during and after "Lies My Parents Told Me" furthering the Buffy/Spike romance

Part III - Crypt Fun and Games

No matter how many arguments Giles offered, Buffy believed that Spike was a good man. He had a soul now. That had to count for something, no matter what Giles said. As for the trigger, well at least now they knew what it was. So they'd have a chance to counter it.

Buffy walked beside Spike up the basement steps and into the kitchen, outside of which there were only a few short steps down into the garage where his DeSoto was parked side by side with the Dodge Astro van that she couldn't think of as belonging to anyone other than her mother. Buffy still didn't really drive much, preferring to rely on her own muscles to get her to and from her destinations. Sure she drove it to work, but really for just Dawn and herself the mini-van was too much. It was just that she couldn't bring herself to trade it in either. Because it was yet another link to their mother. And there were far too few of those left.

Spike stayed well out of the sun dappled brightness of the kitchen until Buffy closed the curtains and drew the blinds, making it nominally safer for him to cross the space without gettin' singed. But he wasn't about to leave without getting something cleared up between them.

Before Buffy could reach for the doorknob, Spike grasped her arm and whirled her around to face him.

"Think we could get back to the topic of our conversation this morning, Sla... Buffy?" Spike asked, substituting her name for her title at the last second. His voice softened to turn her name on his lips to the consistency of warm honey on the tongue, sweet and yet full of sensual promise.

Buffy looked up into Spike's earnest aquamarine eyes and felt herself drowning in them. When she fell into his eyes like this, she found herself wanting more than anything to make them close, but only after she'd filled them with a slumberous warmth that would prevent him from keeping them open for another second. No matter how often she told herself that this was wrong and that she had to stop, had to turn her thoughts... her feelings in another direction, he drew her to him again and again.

"Buffy. Buffy," Spike said, then he snapped his fingers in front of her face, instantly breaking her free from her trance.

A blush rose to Buffy's cheeks as she realized the direction her thoughts had taken. Then she realized that Spike had asked her a question. "Spike, I'm sorry, what?" she asked, hoping for clarification, her blush deepening.

"I suppose you're gonna soddin' tell me that you forgot coming down to the basement this morning?" Spike asked, shaking his head.


"No, I didn't forget," Buffy denied adamantly, before she realized that her admission and this conversation could take her into dangerous territory. "This just isn't the time..."

Spike tentatively reached out to brush a lock of wild blonde hair behind one of Buffy's ears. Then he laid his chill hand against her cheek, cupping it gently, as a child might caress a wildflower's petals to prevent their delicate beauty from being bruised.

A shiver went down Buffy's spine at Spike's delicate touch. It defied his nature and hers. The feelings that surged within her most of all were something she'd already realized she couldn't run from much longer. But right now, with a trigger in Spike's brain, this might not be the best time to discuss her feelings with him.

There was really no telling when the trigger might set him off. And even though Giles had ferreted out what the trigger was, they still had no means of shutting it off.

As much as she'd like to let this wander into dangerous territory, there simply wasn't time for it. The fight with the First Evil took precedence over her personal feelings. And for that she needed Spike. She needed him strong and whole. Not a danger in their very midst.

"I think we should get you back to your crypt," Buffy told him.

"Don't trust me to get there on my own?" Spike asked, with a cocky grin.

"I don't plan on leaving you on your own until the trigger's been disarmed," Buffy admitted. At Spike's widening grin, she clarified, "I'll make sure there's someone with you whenever I can't be."

Although Spike grimaced slightly at the thought of someone other than Buffy babysitting him, the thought of having her with him in his crypt, all alone, was a bittersweet dream come true. Since it was still at least an hour before sunset, Spike parked the car out behind the crypt, where he'd constructed a shelter for it that led inside. With a flourish, he opened the door and motioned for Buffy to precede him inside.

Downstairs in Spike's Crypt

"So what now? You sit here with me and wait for the trigger to go off?" Spike suggested dolefully.

Buffy shook her head. "We could play cards," she threw out as a suggestion. Since serious talk was out of the question. At least for now.

"Strip poker?" Spike offered with a leer.

In spite of herself, Buffy found herself laughing. "I don't think so."

"Name your game then Slayer," Spike dared.

"How about twenty-one?" she asked.

"You mean blackjack?" Spike requested clarification.

"Yeah," Buffy answered.

"Fine," Spike agreed, pulling out a deck of cards from a drawer in the side table and shuffling them on the coffee table in front of the couch. He perched on the edge of the lounge chair, oh so conveniently placed in front of the tele, while that left the whole of the ancient sofa for Buffy's use.

"So what are we going to play for?" Spike asked, arching his eyebrows suggestively.

"Certainly not kittens," Buffy announced, recalling the time she'd found Spike and a bunch of demons playing poker with a bunch of innocent little fur balls as the ante.

"I haven't played for kittens in a long time," Spike admitted. "Besides, there's much more interesting things you and I could play for," he drawled.

"Such as?" Buffy asked sweetly.

"If I win a hand, you could give me a kiss," Spike suggested, with a cocky, knowing grin and a wink.

Buffy shook her head, "I don't think so."

"Well then, we could finish the conversation you started this morning," Spike offered, figuring this was as good a chance as any to press the issue without pushing too hard.

"All right," Buffy agreed. "But what do I get if I win?"

"What do you want?" Spike asked. There wasn't anything that he wouldn't give her regardless of whether she won or lost the game.

"For you to tell me about your past," Buffy answered candidly. "Before you were a vampire," she added.

Soon shy smiles were exchanged in between hands of blackjack as Buffy drank from the can of Coke that he had produced from a micro-miniature camping type refrigerator. It appeared to operate on some kind of battery, because she didn't hear that constant background noise that every full sized refrigerator seemed to produce. Spike poured a couple of shots of room temperature Jack Daniels into a glass for himself.

Buffy raised her eyebrows, but didn't say anything about the dangers of mixing alcohol with The First's trigger, because she was sure he'd probably already thought about that. And really, when the first could set off the trigger anytime, anywhere, what did a little bit of alcohol really matter.

Soon their smiles had dissolved into full fledged laughter, as Buffy unaccountably won hand after hand of blackjack. She shrugged her shoulders as if to say, just lucky I guess, while Spike dealt the cards for one more hand. He'd told her more about his life before he was a vampire in the past hour and a half than he had in the six years she'd known him.

A short musical phrase trilled and then repeated before Buffy had a chance to pull the hot pink cell phone from the clip at her side.

"Hello," Buffy said into the phone.

From Buffy's demeanor, Spike could tell that it was Giles on the other end of the line. Her brow furrowed as she listened to Giles natter on and on over the phone, like the prat he could sometimes... oftentimes be. Still for all Giles' faults, he was definitely a pseudo father figure to Buffy, so he tried to put up with Mr. Tweed.

After Buffy ended the call and slipped the phone back into its convenient carrying case at her side, Spike filled in the blanks before she had a chance to, "you have to go."

Buffy nodded.

"Did you want me to go back to your house?" Spike asked.

Buffy shook her head, and then explained, "Giles wants me to drop you off at Wood's house. He'll look after you while I'm out."

"If you're going to be out fighting some more of the nasties... Bringers or whatever..." Spike trailed off, the offer plain in both his words and posture. He wanted to fight, to help, to remain at Buffy's side.

"Nothing like that," Buffy informed him with a shake of her head. "Giles wants to talk and get a little training and strategy session in is all."

Spike nodded, as he looked over at her calm, assured countenance. He'd fallen into the habit of walking in step with Buffy, so they could be side by side at all times. It gave him the ability to immediately take her back if they ran up against a pack of vampires or any other nasties of the night prowling variety. Being beside her also gave Spike the illusion that someday they might be closer again. That she might see beyond the monster to the man beneath. The one who loved her beyond all reason.

"We're here," Buffy announced as they walked up the sidewalk to Principal Wood's house. Giles had given her the address and since it wasn't far from St. Anne's Cemetery he hadn't objected when she'd stated her intention of walking Spike over there before continuing on to meet him back at The Magic Shop.

Unfortunately it seemed as if their walk was over and yet again they'd had no chance to discuss what Buffy had almost begun to tell him in the basement this very morning. "Buffy, maybe later we can talk..."

Wood chose that most infelicitous moment to interrupt the duo, by appearing around the corner of the house and greeting them, "Buffy... Spike."

Buffy looked up at Wood's stealthy approach and realized that there wasn't much that she knew about the man that he hadn't told her himself. And he really was an enigma, wrapped up in way too many layers of mystery. She wanted to trust Spike to him, but she felt wary, leery about leaving him in anyone else's care. This trigger made her feel jittery, but she didn't want to see someone hurt or for that matter kill Spike, before they had a chance to figure out how to disarm it. Spike mattered too much to her for his destruction to be an acceptable option anymore.

"I guess I should be going," Buffy stated, her voice soft and hesitant, a hint of the forlorn and abandoned in her posture.

"I'll see you soon love," Spike replied and was favored by a smile from his beloved.

They were so caught up in each other that both missed the tightening of Wood's mouth as he watched them.

Buffy walked back the way she'd come up the sidewalk and down the street. It was a few miles to The Magic Shop, but that wasn't anything to a Slayer in top physical condition. Her thoughts remained on Spike as each step took her further away. She'd become used to having Spike there, at her back or at her side. Her constant, stalwart companion. It wasn't easy to admit, but she'd come to depend on him. And not just for his vampire strength.

Soon, very soon she hoped, they'd have a chance to talk and she'd finally be able to tell Spike how she really felt about him.

to be continued...