A/N: Woot! I didn't realize it had been so long since I've updated this. Sorry for keeping people waiting. I'll try to have the next part out a little faster. And AOI will be up next, probably by next week. Again- Magz: Super Beta rocks my socks. *smooches*
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"So, this is the science building. Where, uh… science classes are held," Spike gestured to the large brick building awkwardly, not sure what else to say. Buffy gave him a small smile and pretended to be interested in it.
"Is this where the psychology classes are held?" she asked.
"Uh - no. Sorry. That would be in the psychology building, which is across the quad. I guess you would want to see that one, wouldn't you? Bein' a psych major and all." Spike sighed and started to lead the way across the campus.
Buffy followed and searched her brain desperately for something to say or ask or do. Anything to get rid of this awkwardness between them. It'd been a few days since he'd shown up at her house, asking her if she'd like him to show her around campus. She'd been looking forward to the tour and the possibility of more one-on-one contact with him, but things weren't going like she'd hoped.
"So, you're a senior?" Buffy asked, catching up to him.
"Yeah. We already went over this once," Spike told her, moving on.
Buffy blinked and faltered in her step for a moment. She bit her lip and lengthened her stride to keep up with him. He continued on, oblivious to her all out jog to be able to walk with him.
Finally halfway across the courtyard, she came to a dead stop to catch her breath. She hadn't realized how exerting day-to-day human activity was. Spike was a few yards ahead of her before he realized she wasn't with him any longer and stopped to find where she went.
"Are you coming?" He asked abruptly. Buffy looked at him as if he had three eyes and shook her head. She walked to a nearby bench and sat down, unexpected anger bubbling up inside her. Spike followed and perched next to her, staring at her.
"Are you sick? Hurt? Need help?" He asked impatiently. She shook her head and avoided his eyes. "Then what's the hold up? You wanted to see the campus, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did," she snapped back, shocked at her tone. She was so angry with him and didn't know where it had come from. She needed to get it out, the sooner the better. "I wanted to come to the university and see what I was up against, find out where things were. I came here today expecting that. I expected to get a tour from a half decent person who wasn't a complete… asshole!" The last word flew out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying. She blushed furiously and looked away, unsure of what had come over her.
Spike sat, stunned, for a moment that the petite blonde he had mistook for an angel had used such vulgar words at him. Then he hung his head and knew exactly what she was talking about. He had been an asshole. "Buffy - I'm so sorry. I've been a jerk today. I have nothing to say to justify it or explain it - not that I should. I'm just… you're right, I'm an asshole."
Buffy tried to be forgiving and tolerant but she couldn't shake her anger. She frowned at him. "I told you the first time, that if you didn't want to do this you didn't have to. The university provides campus tours. I can set one of those up and leave you to wallow or brood or do whatever it is that you seem to be stuck in right now."
"No," he put his hand on her arm to keep her from bolting. "I'm really sorry. Truly. I have no excuse, except that I'm a moron." He sighed and looked away, shaking his head. Buffy took pity on him.
"I'm sorry, too. It's been difficult coming such a long way, not knowing anyone or how to get around. When I met you, I had hoped that we could be friends. But I think I pushed too hard. Or you just don't want to be friends. Which is fine. I can see that you have other things in your life that need to be dealt with," she told him in a wistful tone.
She had so much to learn about being human. She had all these thoughts and feelings running through her at the oddest times. She couldn't figure out how she could go from happy to sad in a matter of moments. Or why she was so confused. Or why she couldn't just work herself up to getting him alone and talking to him. He was just another person, right? He had the same physical functions and operations as she did, with a few adjustments to take into account their different genders. Maybe that was it? Maybe the female gender was supposed to be this confused and unsure all the time. And the men were always rude jerks. She hadn't observed that specifically when she had watched from above; then again, seeing and experiencing were two separate things.
Maybe I should have taken a male form. Perhaps there is some sort of camaraderie between the male sex that men and women don't have? she thought to herself.
"Look, Buffy, I'd really like to be your friend. I know this is no excuse for taking it out on others, but I'm going through a hard time right now. After my mum, and all. I - I'm trying but… it's just weird to be out in the real world again, after spending so long cooped up in my room, you know?" Spike asked. Buffy nodded and looked sympathetic, despite the fact that she had no idea what he was talking about. He reached over and took her hand. "I really am sorry. I'm a wanker. I'd really like to show you around the proper way."
Buffy stared dumbly at their hands, his rougher one holding her soft one. And she couldn't think. She glanced at him, wide eyed and felt her heart start to beat faster. His fingers wrapped around hers were so WARM. He looked down from her gaze and unconsciously rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, sending shivers down her spine.
What in the world is wrong with me? she wondered frantically. He's just touching me and I feel like I'm having some sort of episode. Is this normal? Is this right? Something clicked then and she thought back to her memories of a young Spike with his friends. His first kiss with a girl, behind the school after he'd arrived in America. The girl had been so excited, especially when he'd held her hand the next day – she had told all of her friends the moment she saw them. Buffy remembered being happy for him, and the girl and wishing for one split second that she were that girl.
"So, what do you say?" Spike asked, pulling her from her thoughts. Buffy met his eyes and smiled genuinely at him.
"Thanks, Spike," she told him. He smiled back; a true smile that he found didn't hurt as bad as he thought it would. Buffy made a move to stand, to pull her hand away but he held it fast. She cocked her head at him. "Something wrong?"
He turned a thought over in his head a few times, remembering Xander's words about life starting again. Now was as good a time as any. "I was wondering, to make up for my being a complete git today, would you like to go out to dinner sometime? Well - tonight?"
Buffy felt a thrill go through her, unsure if it was from progress in her mission to get Spike to open up to her or because he just asked her out on a date-type excursion. "Really? Dinner? That - that would be very nice. I'd really like to have dinner with you, Spike," Buffy told him. He nodded and gave her another small smile, amazed that he finally could.
"Can I just say that you look very nice tonight, pet?" Spike asked as he opened the door to The Source, the small trendy restaurant that he had brought her to.
"Thank you," She smiled at him as she passed. He caught her scent as it wafted past, a light fresh smell that reminded him of strawberries. He knew that he had surprised Ethan when he had come down the stairs in a pair of dress pants and a sharp blue shirt that brought out his eyes. He had even been cordial toward him, answering questions about where he was going and with whom. A rare moment in their strained relationship.
They were seated immediately, at a small, cozy table near a window. Spike surprised Buffy by pulling her chair out for her, making her smile. He sat across from her and was suddenly struck with inexplicable nervousness. Truth be told, he'd never had problems with the ladies. He knew he looked good and how to play that to his advantage most of the time. He didn't get nervous around girls. He just didn't.
And then there was Buffy.
He took a deep breath and smiled at her across the table. She smiled back, her eyes bright from the soft candlelight. They stared at each other in silence, waiting for the other to start the conversation. Buffy smiled again.
"This is a nice restaurant," she told him, looking around. Spike followed her gaze and nodded. Silence again.
He shook his head and gave an exasperated sigh. "This is insane," Spike told her. Buffy frowned at him.
"What is?"
"This," Spike gestured between them. "We're two fairly intelligent adults who should be able to carry on a conversation without much effort, right?"
"One would assume," Buffy replied.
"Then this shouldn't be that hard. Let's start with, uh… you said you grew up in the north. Would that be exactly?"
Buffy thought quickly. "Wisconsin!"
Spike nodded. "Cheese country, hmm?"
Buffy nodded as well and laughed. "That would be it. Have you ever been up that way?"
"No. Been to New York once and that's been about it. Came right to California from England," Spike told her. The waiter finally came then and gave them menus.
"Wow!" Buffy exclaimed. "Everything looks so good. What do you recommend?"
"Well, to be honest, I've never been here. I've heard good things about the sole. The grilled chicken is supposed to be excellent." Buffy and Spike debated their options and finally decided on a few dishes with the promise that they would share. The waiter took their orders, leaving the couple in a good mood and chatting easily, exchanging laughs.
Spike was just thinking how nice this was, sitting with a gorgeous girl and enjoying himself for the first time in weeks when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Jenny Calendar, a woman who worked with his mother at the gallery doing inventory and bookkeeping. His good mood faltered.
"William," Jenny started. "I don't want to interrupt your meal but I saw you as I was leaving and wanted to come express my condolences to you and the rest of your family. I know how close you were to your mother and I feel awful about what happened. Joyce was such a wonderful woman. I wanted you to know that and how much we'll all miss her at the gallery."
As if a bucket of ice-cold water had been dumped on his head he gave her a tight smile and thanked her for her comments before she left. He turned back to the table and Buffy's sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry about that," she told him. He shrugged.
"What for? S'not like you knew she was coming or that my mother was going to die," Spike told her shortly as the waiter arrived with their water. "Hey there mate, how about you bring us a cask of your house wine?"
"Very good, sir," he told him. Buffy bit her lip when she saw the look on Spike's face but kept quiet. Obviously, the woman's comment had upset him.
"So you're from England. Do you ever want to go back?" She turned to another subject. Spike sighed quietly to himself but it wasn't missed by Buffy.
"Sometimes. Sometimes I just want to pack up and leave, get away and start over, you know?" Buffy nodded as if she did. "But then I think about staying here and the life I already have for myself. Granted, it's not much right now, but I'm getting it back. Or I will."
"I'm sure you will. Life has a tendency to get confusing just when you think everything is the way it's supposed to be. But that's when you learn to adapt and discover new things, right?"
"I suppose," Spike murmured. She was true about that actually. If he hadn't been at the graveyard that day, he likely would never have met her. But then again, if his mother had never died he wouldn't have had to be at the graveyard. And he wouldn't be a bumbling mess now.
He sighed again and thanked the higher powers as the waiter came with their wine. He poured Buffy a glass. He gulped down his first and then poured another for himself before attempting to launch into a half-decent conversation with her.
Buffy watched him as he drank and felt her stomach sink in fear and worry.
"That was a great meal, wasn't it Buffy?" Spike asked as they walked to the front desk to pay. He slung an arm about her waist, which she suspected as a way to keep from weaving. The first cask of wine had been drunk just after their food had arrived. The second after they finished eating. Spike had wanted to order a third but Buffy managed to talk him out of it, convincing him that she didn't want any and it would be a waste as she had nursed her one glass through the whole meal.
"It was great Spike. Thank you for bringing me," Buffy told him, stopping him at the counter to pay. He whipped out his credit card with a flash grinning at her as the waiter rang them through.
Buffy led them outside and breathed in the fresh air. She rubbed her arms lightly through her red sweater and sighed. Spike noticed this and wrapped his arm about her shoulders again, thinking she was cold. She gave him a small, strained smile. "Are you okay?" she asked.
"Sure!" Spike grinned. He was feeling alright now. A little buzzed from the wine but better in general. He pulled his keys out of his pocket and headed for his car. Buffy felt instant dread and remembered all the people she had seen in her existence, killed because of drinking and driving. She caught up with him and pulled the keys from his grasp. Spike wheeled around. "Hey!"
"Sorry, Spike, but I'm not letting you drive," she told him firmly, holding her ground. Spike frowned at her.
"You're going to drive us home? In my baby?" He pouted. Buffy felt her heart beat a little harder at this but shook her head the same.
"Yes. Guess I am driving us home," Then the reality hit. "Oh. I'm driving us home."
"Is that a problem?" Spike asked. Buffy shook her head.
"No! It's fine. It's just a new car to me. It's okay."
"Alright. But I have a request," Spike told her as they got into the car. "Since you're driving us home and won't even let me get us there, how about you head over the liquor store and I can buy us something."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Buffy asked. She had knowledge of how to drive a car, in her made up memories. But actually doing it?
"I think it's a great idea," Spike told her, a slight edge to his words. Buffy nodded and set her mouth in a determined line before buckling her seatbelt, making sure Spike did the same, and started the car. It stalled.
"Buffy, luv?" Spike asked. "Something wrong?"
"No," She said quickly. "It's just been awhile since I've driven a standard." He nodded and watched as she closed her eyes and said a few silent words before trying again. This time it turned over. She flashed him a triumphant smile and shifted into reverse and started to back up.
And she stalled again.
Spike hid a buzzed smile as she closed her eyes again and took a deep breath. Buffy started the car again and backed up, shifted into first and started driving. She gave a sigh of relief that she had some knowledge of how to drive stick and followed Spike's directions to the liquor store. A few minutes, and a hesitant and jerky ride later he was there and walking fairly steadily into the store. He emerged shortly with a brown paper bag and got back into the car. Buffy had kept it running so she wouldn't have to start it again and pulled back into the street with a few jerks.
"So back to your house now?" She asked. Spike shook his head as he opened the bottle in his bag and took a long drink. It burned on the way down. Just the way he liked it.
"I want to show you something," he told her. She nodded and glanced out of the corner of her eye at the way he was chugging back the alcohol. He directed her through the town, to the edge where they reached a section of woods before the mountains. He pointed her to a dirt road and she took it, noticing she was driving upwards. She put the headlights on bright and watched the road carefully to make sure she didn't drive them into a tree.
Finally, they came to a clearing and Spike directed her to the edge, protected by a guardrail. She stopped the car and looked out the windshield over the edge of the mountain at the entire town. Spike watched her closely as she took it in, smiling at the lights shining up at them.
"We're in luck. It's deserted tonight. Not very often that that happens up here. Usually pretty popular," Spike commented, titling his bottle back again.
"It's so pretty!" Buffy breathed. It was as if she was watching from above again, seeing everything so small and from far away. It made her a little homesick, not that she could technically relate that feeling to her existence above because of the entity that she was.
Spike reached out with his free hand and caught a lock of her hair. She turned to him, surprised and watched as he ran it through his fingers. "You're very pretty, Buffy," he whispered to her. She watched him, breathless as he edged closer to her across the bench seat. He sat the half-empty bottle of liquor down on the floor between then and captured her face in both hands.
Buffy's mouth went dry as he leaned in close to her. He breathed in her scent and dropped a short kiss on her cheek. Buffy didn't pull away, unable to move from his hands, his eyes, his lips. Spike closed his eyes and pressed his mouth to hers, chastely, waiting to see what she would do. Buffy brought one shaky hand up to caress his cheek, the other one paralyzed in her lap. Spike took this as a sign of encouragement and kissed her in earnest. Buffy responded, tasting the alcohol on his lips and the faint memory of cigarettes, even though he hadn't had one since he picked her up.
Spike moved a hand to her hair so he could angle her head the right way and opened his mouth, letting his tongue skim her lips. He pushed at her mouth, demanding entrance more than asking and she opened to him, unsure of what else to do. His other hand drifted down her neck stroking there with rough fingers before trailing down her arm to her stomach. He pressed his hand there, rubbing up and down slowly. Buffy relaxed and started to get the hang of the kissing thing, letting her tongue massage his. A sound escaped from her throat that she had never heard before, a moan. She tensed, wondering if it was bad and Spike pulled away.
"Are you okay?" he asked, dazed. Buffy just nodded, licking her lips. Spike's eyes darkened with desire and he caught her mouth again. Buffy let her hand move into his hair, much the same as his hand was in her hair and she played with the curls there. His other hand started moving against her belly again stroking and rubbing more insistently. He moved down to the hem of her shirt and slipped his fingers underneath, caressing the skin there. Buffy jumped lightly and Spike chuckled against her fingers. But he didn't move away.
Buffy tried to pull away as his hand slid further under her shirt. He slid it around her, and splayed it on her back, moving up and down and started fiddling with the clasp on her bra. Buffy jerked away then and brought her hands to his chest. Spike stared at her confused.
"Spike, I… that's too fast," Buffy explained. Spike nodded dumbly and leaned in to kiss her again. His hands started wandering and moved to slip under her shirt again. Buffy pushed him away more forcefully this time and got out of the car. Spike stumbled out after her.
"Buffy! Wait - I… I'm sorry," he told her. Buffy held up her hand, stopping him in his tracks.
"Just... stay there. You're drunk. I – I - don't want to do that with you, Spike," Buffy told him. Spike looked lost for a moment before he turned and ducked back into the car. He came out with the bottle and tipped it back violently, some spilling out around his mouth.
"Spike! Can you put down the bottle! Please! Just… stop!" Buffy begged him. Spike shook his head and stumbled over to the guardrail to the edge of the mountain and looked down.
"I can't, Buffy," he told her quietly. She edged closer to him so she could hear him and noticed that he was crying.
"Oh, Spike," she whispered and laid a hand on his back. He jerked away and swung around to glare at her.
"I can't stop! And I can't go. And I can't do anything right. I drink to feel but I can't feel because it hurts so fucking much! I try to do something - anything normal in my life and it's foreign to me. I don't know what to say or do or act or feel. I don't know how to make it go away! I can't talk to my friends, or tell them how it is for me cause I don't even know. I act like a complete bastard to everyone, including you, who I don't even know. And that's what I want to do Buffy. I want to know you. Because under normal circumstances I'd be all over you. I'm trying so hard to make everything right, to make it be like it was but it isn't and it never will be. I don't know who I am anymore, Buffy! And I'm so scared that I'll never know," Spike cried harder until he was shaking and sobbing from the effort. He shook his head and looked out over the town again, his vision blurry. Buffy bit on her lip and felt a tear run down her cheek, her whole body aching from his pain.
Spike took a deep breath and swiped at his eyes, dropping the bottle to the ground where it smashed to pieces. Then he stepped over the guardrail to the edge of the mountain. Buffy gasped and stepped forward to grab his arm. He shook her off and snarled at her.
"Spike! No! What are you doing?" Buffy tried to grab at him again but he brushed her off again and turned to look at her.
"I can't do this anymore, Buffy. I'm lost. I hurt so much and it won't stop. I can't drink it away, I can't bury it deep inside myself, I can't make it stop!" he yelled. Buffy flinched but didn't move. "I want it to. I have to make it stop, Buffy. And this is the only way I can do it."
Buffy slapped him. He swayed on his feet slightly and blinked at her. He wasn't sure he had ever seen anyone look so angry in all his life.
"Jesus Christ, Spike. I never thought you were this selfish. Your mother died, yes. Do you think she wanted to? Do you think she wanted to leave you here, to leave her friends, her life? And here you are, ready to throw it all away willingly. I know things aren't easy. I know you're having a hard time right now but you're also being a stupid, selfish bastard. You want to inflict the same pain you're feeling on other people? Your friends, your dad? You want to give up so easily what she was fighting for as hard as she could?" Buffy grabbed his arm again and shook him for good measure. Spike stumbled slightly and clutched at her arm, unable to speak. "Is that what you want Spike? Because that's what happens when you make it stop."
He looked into her fiery eyes, his own wide and shining. His whole body seemed to grow tired then, his shoulders slumping, as his knees grew weak. Buffy helped him over the guardrail and held him by the arms so she could look him in his shocked, disbelieving face. She cupped his cheek with one hand and he closed his eyes, letting her warmth seep into him. He felt a sob well up inside him.
The next thing he knew he was being cradled in Buffy's arms, slumped on the ground as he wailed, his chest aching from his hiccups and deep coughing breaths. Buffy just rocked him back and forth, smoothing his hair back and whispering soothing sounds in his ear as his tears soaked into her shirt.
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