70

Spike was uncharacteristically silent on the trip to Rose's apartment. He even considered not staying, but as if sensing this, she turned a pleading glance at him, and his resolve crumbled to dust.

When they reached the apartment, Rose turned and gave him a long, thoughtful look. A very long look.

Her gaze was starting to unnerve Spike. "Look, luv, I've been thinking..," he began.

"So that's what the trouble is," Rose remarked quietly. Perfectly seriously too, at least at first, then she ruined the effort with a giggle.

Spike grinned despite himself. "Now see here, sweetheart," he protested. "I'm totally serious. Twice now we've gone out, and twice now you've been in danger because I couldn't protect you."

Rose shrugged. "So we don't go out, if it's that much of a problem. Answer me this, though. If something comes up tomorrow night, do you think Fred will be able to protect me? Or maybe it's just that you consider me completely helpless."

She had him backed into a corner now. Spike struggled to find something to say that wouldn't just get him in deeper. "Oh hell," he muttered. "It's not you, it's me, pet. I just feel so totally bloody useless."

Her rising temper began to ebb away. "Then you know how I feel," Rose said softly. "Because I've been trying as hard as I can and I can't do anything to help you, either."

"The cases aren't parallel, precious girl," Spike pointed out. He shadowed Rose to the kitchen, watched her get herself a cold drink, then followed her back to the living room and sat beside her on the sofa.

"I just don't see how you can say that," she said. He couldn't believe how utterly charming she looked with her forehead wrinkled in thought. "You don't protect me because you aren't able to. The same reason that I don't restore your body. If I find the right spell, the necessary artifact, then both problems are solved. Looked at that way, the failure is entirely mine."

"Oh no you don't," he argued. "You are most definitely not taking responsibility for my deficiencies." He looked into her soft gray eyes, and lost it again. "I keep thinking that if I really loved you, I'd get the hell away from you before something really bad happens to you. Because I'm useless to you. Maybe I don't love you as much as I thought I did."

"Or maybe you love me so much that you can't stay away." Rose bit her lip, trying to keep from crying. "I wish you wouldn't talk like that, Spike. It feels like someone's sticking a knife in my heart and twisting it. Can't you just accept the fact that I love you no matter what? No matter what limitations you have, I love you."

"Damned if I do and damned if I don't," Spike observed. Despite his good intentions, he caved in. He just couldn't stand to see her so unhappy. "I'm sorry, luv. The last thing I want to do is to hurt you. But I'm afraid that that's going to happen no matter what. So, I guess that I'll stick around until you see the light and get tired of me."

"It'll never happen," Rose vowed. "So why don't we forget about St. Spike the martyr? I really don't care for him much at all. I prefer the Spike that wants to see me laugh. The one who talks me into wearing outlandish outfits because he thinks I look nice in them. The Spike who watches me sleep to make sure that I'll wake up again. The person who looks at me like the one in that picture." She indicated Angel's drawing. "That's the Spike I fell in love with. The one I want to be with."

"You're a very stubborn lady, pet," Spike observed. "Against my better judgment, I'll give in." He smiled wryly. "Truth to tell, my heart wasn't in it, but I had to give it a shot."

&&&&&&

So far, the evening had been a fairly easy one for Rose. All she had to do was ask an occasional question, and Fred would answer it, at length. She didn't understand a fraction of what Fred was saying, but her bubbly enthusiasm was so friendly and well-meant, that she could hardly be accused of being a bore.

"Oh my goodness." Fred finally realized how much she had been rattling on. "You must think I'm so rude to go on and on like that."

"Not at all," Rose replied. "You like your work, you're good at it, and you like sharing what you know. From what I've seen, Fred, you're a very fortunate person." She started disinterestedly painting her toenails, as their girls night out had more or less become a girls night in and possibly a sleepover.

"But you like your work too, don't you?" Fred asked. "I've heard that you've practically set the entire research department on it's ear. They are totally impressed with how good you are."

Rose grinned, but it was embarrassment as much as anything, and her face started to go hot. "I don't think I'm all that impressive, Fred. All I do is look things up. You create new things, and figure out ways to solve problems, not on the same level as what I do at all."

"Enough with the shop talk," Fred decided. "I want to hear what's with you and Spike. Just about everybody is talking about it."

"Everybody?" Rose looked dismayed. "Don't they have lives of their own? Besides, I don't see why they would care one way or the other."

"People love to talk," Fred pointed out. "And in a place the size of Wolfram and Hart, well, it's like living in a small town. Everyone knows everyone else's business. Speaking for myself, I think it's terribly romantic." Fred got a little dreamy eyed. "Star crossed lovers and all that."

"Who says that a scientist can't have a little romance in her soul?" Rose observed. "Fred, I did want to ask you a sort of serious question. Just your opinion on something."

"Fire away," Fred replied. "I owe you just for sitting through all my ravings."

"It's about Spike," Rose said, not sure about putting the thing as bluntly with Fred as she had with Wesley and Angel.

"Surprise, surprise." Fred smiled. "Spike is a terrible flirt, but I'm sure he didn't really mean anything..,"

"Oh no." The blush bloomed in full force. "I wasn't going to ask anything like that," she mumbled. "I just wanted to know what you thought.., or rather how you felt about.., about whether or not you think Spike deserves to go to hell."

"I'm not sure I'm the person to ask," Fred answered. "I don't exactly have an objective opinion on the subject."

"I wasn't looking for one," Rose assured her. "I just want to know what your feelings are about it."

"He likes to make wise-cracks all the time, no matter who is the victim," Fred mused. "Especially if it's Angel. He can be rude and obnoxious when he wants to be. But I think deep down, he's really a nice, gentle person. So, no, I don't think he deserves to go to hell. If I had thought that, I wouldn't have put so much work into trying to bring him back."

"So you felt that way even before he saved your life?" Rose re-capped the nail polish and wiggled her toes. She couldn't imagine that anyone would look at her feet enough to make it worth the effort.

"Put a lot of time and a whole lot of Wolfram and Hart's money into it." Fred grimaced, remembering that little conference with Angel and Eve. "The saddest part of all, was that it did work, just on the wrong person."

"But if it had worked on the right person you would have died," Rose pointed out. "How many people could make a choice like that," she wondered aloud.

"I can't imagine that many people have been in Spike's particular position," Fred said matter-of-factly. "But I see your point. Spike may be a pain in the butt to a lot of people, but I trust him."

"I just wish he could trust himself." Rose sighed. "Fred, tell me again why we're doing this? I don't mean the talking part, I mean..," She waved her hand in a sweeping gesture at the chaos of make-up and munchies around them.

"Didn't you go on sleep-overs as a teenager?" Fred asked. "I mean, I lived a pretty sheltered life, but even I spent the occasional weekend over at a girlfriends house, playing with the make-up, eating junk food and talking about boys."

"So we're regressing?" Rose guessed.

Fred sighed. She found that she really liked Rose, but she wasn't sure she understood her. "Something like that," she answered.

&&&&&&

"Isn't there anyone else, anyone at all you can bother?" said Angel irritably. He'd been trying to read, but hadn't gotten through one whole paragraph yet.

"I can't remember being at such a loose end since Rose got here," Spike confessed. "Can't believe it's only been a couple of weeks. In some ways, it seems like a lifetime. I just don't know what to do when she's not around."

"I'm surprised that you haven't crashed in on their ladies night," Angel observed.

"I wasn't invited," Spike pointed out.

"Doesn't stop you from hanging around me and driving me up the wall." Angel finally gave up on the book and put it down. If Spike felt like talking, then talk he would. And keep at it till Angel paid attention.

"Well, that's different, ain't it?" Spike's eyes twinkled merrily. "I think I'd rather tackle a pack of hungry demons before I'd bust in on a pair of gossiping women. And don't try to tell me you don't feel the same way." He'd been wandering around restlessly. Right now he was by the table where Angel had set his book. Biting his lip in concentration, he neatly slid the bookmark out of the book.

"You jerk," Angel said tiredly. "Don't you ever get tired of being a thorn in my side?"

"More like a pain in your ass." Spike smirked. "Which covers a lot of territory, you being all ass." He fidgeted with the bookmark for a few seconds until he hit a gap in his concentration and the object slipped through his fingers. "Bugger."

"You're being awfully antsy tonight," Angel observed. "Even for you. So why don't you get it off your chest, metaphorically speaking. Then, maybe you'll get tired of harassing me and go on your merry way."

Spike flopped down in a chair, but still acted twitchy. "Wouldn't be so merry if Rose had paid the slightest bit of attention to me trying to be noble last night," he remarked. "I tried to talk some sense into her, but I couldn't make her see reason."

"I certainly won't set myself up as an expert on affairs of the heart," Angel said slowly. "But don't you think that trying to talk sense to a woman in love is a waste of breath?"

"I can hardly waste something I need even less than you do," Spike remarked. "And I really did want to do what was best for her. I mean, not only am I useless, but I seem to be a jinx as well. Two out of two dates ending in disaster..,"

"Hardly constitutes a statistical universe," Angel interjected. "Don't you think you're being a little hard on yourself?"

"Never thought I'd hear something like that from you," his companion remarked. "From Rose I more or less expected it, minus the sarcasm. I didn't think she had that in her."

"Rose? Sarcastic?" Obviously Angel didn't think she'd had it in her either.

"Called me St. Spike the martyr," Spike muttered. Suddenly he grinned. "Seems kind of funny, now. It didn't at the time, though. Guess I was kind of wallowing in it. But I'm getting sick to the teeth of having her threatened and having to sit back and wait for you to rescue her."

"And it's another blow to Spike's ego," Angel mocked. "Listen, Spike, maybe you were really trying to be noble, trying to do what was best for Rose. But she's a big girl. Don't you think she deserves a chance to make her own decisions? Even if it should turn out that they're destructive ones?"

"I want her to be safe," Spike said softly. "I want her to be happy."

"But what if they're not the same thing?" Angel asked.

&&&&&&&

Rose stirred restlessly on Fred's living room floor, just a few feet away from her hostess. Fred had unearthed sleeping bags and insisted on going through the slumber party routine with a vengeance.

"Rose."

Rose: "I'm here."

Viridian: "Do you have any further progress to report?"

Rose: "I've talked to Angel and to the girl named Fred. Angel seems to feel that Spike earned redemption by saving the Slayer. Fred had already thought that he was worth saving even before he sacrificed a chance at corporeality to save her."

Citrine: "And what are your feelings on the matter, Rose? Have they changed at all?"

Rose: "Yes, and no. I still feel that whatever he's done in the past, he certainly doesn't merit hell now."

Violet: "That was only half a reply. What was the rest?"

Rose: "I've fallen in love with him."

Sienna: "You were warned of the dangers of that."

Rose: "I couldn't help myself. He loves me so much that I find it impossible not to respond to it."

Cerulean: "Do you believe that you have been there long enough to appreciate the complexities of the emotion?"

Rose: "I don't know. I just know that when I have to come back, it's going to feel like losing a part of myself. And that is if the judgment is favorable. If it isn't, I don't know how I'll continue."

Citrine: "Since you are immortal, you will continue, so not continuing is not a possibility."

Rose: "I didn't say that it was. But if I fail him..,"

&&&&&&&

Rose woke with a start, sitting up and bathed in a film of sweat. Fred snoozed on nearby, undisturbed by the sudden movement. She sat there for a moment, forcing slow, deep breaths. What could they have meant, cutting the interview short? They obviously hadn't rejected her proposal out of hand yet, or else she wouldn't be back here. But why had they sent her back so abruptly? And why was her heart threatening to pound a hole in her chest? She laid back down and cuddled her pillow to her instead of resting her head on it. She felt disconnected and alone. She didn't have the secure feeling of being a part of a greater whole, as she did on that other plane. And she missed the comfort she always derived from Spike's presence. She closed her eyes again, and could almost visualize his pretty blue ones, could almost hear his voice. And at last, she drifted off to sleep. Thinking of Spike. Dreaming of Spike.