Running Back to You

//You can't just dis me when you wanna//

//Or come and go when you wanna//

//I hear you playing around when you wanna//

//Anytime that you wanna//

//Or just tell me lies when you wanna//

//I got more than you want ah//

//Oh, and by the way//

//I won't come running back//

//Running back to you//

//Then you'll think about love, all the good I gave to you//

//I won't come running back//

//Running back to you//

Vanessa Williams "Running Back to You"

~*~

Even though part of her said she should focus on something constructive, like dealing with the geeky trio that had been wrecking her life since she came back to it, Buffy found herself quietly entering her own house instead and trudging up the stairs.

Her feet fell heavily on each step so she wasn't surprised to find Willow waiting anxiously at the top of the staircase when she reached it. She reluctantly looked up from the floor to watch her friend fidget as she obviously tried to figure out what to say.

"Buffy," the woman tightened the sash of her robe and ran a hand over her very tangled red hair, "are … are you ok?"

"Spike's gone," she answered rather blankly then blinked as Tara peeked out of her mom – no, Willow's - bedroom at about the same time Dawn appeared in her own doorway.

"What did you do to him?" the teenager demanded with fear and anger warring for dominance in her tone.

"I didn't do anything. He just …," she swallowed the lump in her throat then continued quietly, "he just left. They all leave."

"What do you mean he left? Where'd he go? What happened?"

"You kinda saw what happened," Buffy sighed and sank to sit down on the top step. "I went to his crypt and he talked a lot and told me he was leaving and he left."

"A-are y-you ok?" Tara moved to kneel next to her and put a concerned hand on her shoulder.

"He left me," she felt a tear well up and fall from her eye. "He just … he said such horrible things. I think he hates me, has to hate me to talk like that, and now he's gone. Just stormed out, got on that stupid bike and took off."

"Is that really a bad thing?" Willow asked as she observed the interaction between her girlfriend and the Slayer. "I mean, especially after what we saw tonight and everything that's been happening lately with the way he is with you, his leaving's probably for the best."

It became obvious then that the redhead hadn't figured out the full extent of Buffy's relationship with Spike and neither Dawn or Tara had informed her that they'd been intimate.

"What happened?" Dawn asked again as she came to stand petulantly over her sister.

"I already told you," Buffy wiped at the tear on her cheek. "I went to his crypt - "

"What happened at the Magic Box?" the teenager interrupted.

"Xander knocked Spike around a little and was about to stake him when I got there. I shoved him off and there was talking, but I don't remember much, and then Spike told him that we had been … you know … and Xander left then I left and just started walking around. I don't know how long it took, but I ended up going to Spike's crypt and he was there, waiting for me, to tell me how much he hated loving me and that he was done and he was leaving and he left," a sob escaped her before she could hold it back and then she looked at her sibling. "He said to tell you he was sorry," she was remembered and told her sister, "and that he'd still watch out for you when he could. He just," she began crying as it all started sinking in, "he said he just couldn't stay here anymore. He left me," she laid her head against Tara's chest as the woman hugged her. "He can't stand being around me anymore and he left me."

"You and Spike …," Willow said slowly, but Buffy could tell that Tara gave the redhead a look to stop the words.

"I'm sure h-he'll be b-back, Buffy," the woman holding her said in an attempt to reassure.

"I don't think he will," she curled more into Tara's comforting arms and began to cry her confusion out on the lesbian's shoulder. "You didn't see him. Didn't hear him," she began rocking back and forth to try stopping the tears and get rid of the memories. "He really left."

"I'm sure he'll be back, Buffy," she suddenly felt Willow place an awkward hand on her back as the Wiccan spoke. "He loves you. He stayed this long … I … I mean … he even stayed when you were … gone … it's like he can't leave. This'll blow over and he'll be back."

"You think?" she turned to her friend with watery eyes and caught Dawn slipping quietly back into her bedroom out of the corner of her eye.

She could tell the redhead found this whole situation awkward and uncomfortable and most likely just plain weird, but still Willow gave a rather sincerely reassuring smile and nodded almost convincingly.

It wasn't much, but it was something so Buffy grabbed it.

Ok, she told herself pulling away from another sob-fest on Tara's shoulder, so he was gone. He'd be back. Spike always came back.

Even before they were together he was irresistibly drawn to this stupid town even though it had only ever brought him bad luck. His long time relationship with Dru had unraveled here, he'd found and lost the Gem of Amara, hooked up with Harmony, gotten chipped by a secret government military organization, lost his ability to be a big bad, had to suck up all his pride to come to Giles and her for help and then …

He'd fallen in love with her, a voice inside reminded but she quickly shook it off.

He'd allowed himself to be tortured by a bitch God to protect Dawn, been willing to die for her and her sister, stayed in this place he had to hate with every fiber of his being to keep a promise to a dead woman and been there for her ever since she was brought back from Heaven.

Thinking of all that she pushed herself to her feet, mumbled something to the couple watching her curiously then went to her room to get her nightgown before walking into the bathroom to take a shower.

She felt … unclean.

Wrong.

Like she just needed to get rid of her skin or something to just … stop whatever she was feeling.

When she stepped from the bathroom about twenty minutes later she heard Tara and Willow whispering in their room followed by giggles and definite sounds that the couple was back together.

And happy.

Buffy resented them for that.

Envied them. All they'd been through and still they found their way back together and to happiness.

Will I ever be happy again?

Her steps are heavy again as she enters her room with that question in mind. After closing the door behind herself she finds her feet moving toward her bedroom window rather than the bed.

She wraps her arms tightly around her waist as her green eyes lock on the tree in the front yard.

How many times had she looked out to see him standing there, bleached blonde hair gleaming like a beacon in the darkness, a hint of red flame and puffs of smoke from the cigarettes he lit and smoked over and over as he just watched her?

He hadn't stood in the shadows of that tree gazing up at her window for a long time now and it hit her hard on her raw emotions to realize she may never look out to see him there again.

No, she tells herself firmly, he'll be back.

A shiver of longing runs through her body as she forces herself to think of better things and finds her mind turning to a memory from just a few weeks ago. The night before Riley returned with his perfect little wife and ruined Buffy's little dream world by reminding her of how things had been so long ago. That thought was shaken off angrily and she latches on to the better memory of coming home from work and patrolling to find Spike lurking in the shadows of that tree.

Her eyes fall shut as she remembers his smile and teasing tone as she called him from his hiding place. Remembers him wanting to be allowed into the house and her refusing then his tempting her to stay outside.

"I want you," he had drawled so softly, seductively, "you want me."

It had been that simple then and she'd allowed him to press her against the rough bark of that tree to kiss her. He'd kissed her so softly at first that it had been easy to surrender. To forget about Dawn and the food she had been carrying for her sister's dinner. Forget about being outside making out with a vampire. So easy to just let her lips and body soften against his until his body and lips and hands became hard and urgent and she'd been swept away by all the feelings and sensations she felt in his arms.

Unbidden another memory intruded on that more pleasant thought and her eyes sprang open as, behind her closed eyelids, she stopped seeing Spike touching her and began seeing him as he had been tonight on that damned computer screen. Touching Anya. Kissing Anya. Screwing Anya and making the other woman feel all those sensations that Buffy had become so addicted to.

I hate him, she tells herself as her gaze returns to that damned tree and tears begin sliding down her cheeks. The words didn't fit, though. They didn't work.

They weren't true.

Forcing her body to move away from the window she turned to crawl into bed and pulled the covers tightly around herself. Sleep didn't feel possible, though, even after the night she'd had. So she laid curled up on her side and remembered the dream she'd had the night she thought she'd killed Katrina.

She'd been laying just like this in the dream, wearing the same nightgown as she did now, and Spike had climbed into the bed behind her. He'd whispered how it would be alright as his hand drifted down her arm and his lips touched her shoulder and his nude body pressed against hers. In that dream she'd believed him. Believed it would all be alright so long as he kept touching her like that and she'd turned into his arms, his kiss, to feel something good and try erasing the terrible thing she'd done that night from her mind.

Then the dream had gone all wrong, much like everything between them had.

It was all over though. Tonight had definitely ended whatever she had had with Spike, she told herself firmly while ignoring the twisting ache in her chest at the thought. No more of their fighting or fucking or hurting each other.

No more Spike.

That thought had her turning her head to sob into the pillow beneath her as her body curled into a tight little ball of pain. Everything was wrong tonight and she hated it. She just wanted to do it all over again and not have this hurt ever again.

She cried until there was nothing left inside her. Until she literally felt empty inside again and her spirit welcomed that numbness as exhaustion weighed heavily on her mind and body.

He'll come back, the thought whispered through her thoughts repeatedly and gave her the peace she needed to close her eyes and go to sleep.

~*~*~

Spike knew he was wasting time searching out Clem, but it wasn't like he actually had anywhere to be now and he had to talk to the demon. His blue eyes scanned the crowded demon bar until he located the door to the backroom where Clement was likely to be playing poker with the other guys.

He felt the menacing stares of many patrons turn his way as he strode through the horde to that room and allowed his human features shift into their vampire façade to give the blokes a clue not to bloody mess with him tonight. He knew they all looked at him as the Slayer's bloody bitch and was done with it.

But no more.

Anyone who dared to cross his path would get their damned head ripped off. After tonight he'd never be anyone's bitch again.

No more fucking love for this git, he told himself with self-loathing as he burst into the back room.

"Piss off," he orders the others gathered around the poker table with Clem.

All four demons look up at him, angry at the interruption, but a feral growl coupled with his game face had the three unwanted occupants rising to collect their winnings and leave the room.

"So … um," Clem raised a hand to scratch behind one floppy ear, "did I forget to do something or … is this about that nacho cheese stain on your chair? 'Cause I know someone who says they can get it out."

"I'm leaving," Spike shut the door, shifted back into his normal features and flopped down in a chair at the table.

"Oh … you and that Slayer break up again?"

"Nothing to break up," he scoffed at the reminder of his delusions and snatched up a shot glass from the table, knocked back it's contents then proceeded to cough and spit repeatedly as the yak urine hit his taste buds.

Fishing his flask out of his duster the blonde vampire began laughing uproariously at how that was so fitting. Story of his bloody life and unlife, he curses at finding only a swig of whiskey in the silver container but is glad to have that much to override the other taste, reach out for something that looks good and wind up with nothing but a bad lingering taste of something vile in his mouth.

"Uh … Spike," Clem said rather worriedly to remind him of the demon's presence.

"Right, what I came here for," he sighed then refocuses. "Need a favor, mate."

"Sure, anything. Name it."

"Put word out and keep it out that any one, any thing messes with this Slayer or her family they deal with William the bloody Bloody. And keep an eye on the lil bit for me," he looked his friend in the eye as he began giving his orders. "She's goin' through one of them … bleeding 'phases' they go on about on the telly during the daytime talk shows. Make sure she stays outta too much trouble."

"I can do that."

"Take care of my crypt, too. Not the posh digs it had been before her bloody farm boy blew it up, but it's still mine and holds a few things I can't take with me."

"Where you going?"

"Hell if I know," Spike pulls out a pack of cigarettes and lights one up to take a deep draw of the smoke and nicotine. "Just gotta get the hell away from here," he exhales and stares blankly at the wall. "From her."

"So … this a vacation or …"

"You'll know soon as I do," he pushed abruptly to his feet. "We clear?"

"Yeah. Put the word out the Slayer and her friends aren't to be touched, watch out for her sister and take care of your place," Clem recited his list of favors to do.

"Record Passions while you're at it. Might not always have access to a TV and can't miss a bloody episode of that show without the plot getting all addled up."

"I never got that soap," the demon again scratches at his ear. "The whole Timmy thing was freaky."

"Hey, now, don't go knocking Timmy," Spike responded automatically then once again laughed at himself. "God, how much more pathetic can I get before someone does the deed and bloody dusts me already?"

"Who says you're pathetic? I don't think you're pathetic," his friend is obviously trying to cheer him up. "I doubt Buffy thinks you're pathetic."

"Ha! Shows what you know, mate. Damned Slayer makes me pathetic. All I've tried to do for that bloody bitch and it means nothing. She don't trust or love or even like me 'cause I'll always only be a damned vampire to her. A soulless, evil demon she'll never lower herself to do more than tumble a time or two 'cause she likes it too hard for the wankers she meets to scratch her itches," he sighs and gets to his feet, crushing his cigarette under his boot heel. "'Cept I'm not that bloody demon anymore. Can't be that monster now with this damned chip," he presses his fingers into his head with a furious growl. "Chip her damned Captain Cardboard put there and still I love the bitch. Nothing but grief, all she's caused me and I just keep – kept – running back for more. But no more," a thought suddenly occurs to him and his hands fall to his side as a smile curls his lips. "Well, then, that's an idea," he says to himself. "No way I can be a man for her, she'll never take me as I am … why not give her what she bloody well expects? She'll only ever see me as a monster. I'll show her a bloody monster again."

"Spike," Clement said with a touch of worry.

"Got places to be now, mate," smile still in place he opens the door to leave this dive. "Remember what I asked you and I'll be in touch again."

Knowing the demon would do as asked, Spike left without further ado and stalked through the crowd with renewed purpose in his steps.

Some twit of a vampire stumbled into his path and bumped into him and without pause the blonde grabbed the fledging and snapped it's neck for the accident. A path was instantly made for him to reach and exit the front doors without another incident.

Stepping out into the waning night he inhaled deeply then crossed the parking lot to his bike, humming Sinatra under his breath. He climbed onto the machine and glanced back toward Sunnydale as he lit another cigarette.

He'd stormed from his crypt determined to never set foot in that cursed town again, but now …

Oh, he'd be going back there, an evil smirk curled his lips as he inhaled a puff of smoke then slowly exhaled it. Wouldn't be going back to her, but he'd be back. And he'd finally be himself again.

"Tried to do it a nice way, Slayer," he whispers into the night as if she could hear him. "Now we'll do it my way."

Swallowing the Nancy-boy urge inside that told him to go back - to stay there just to make sure she didn't die on him again, to keep trying to get through to her - he started the Harley and got back on to the highway that would take him further from her and, hopefully, closer to himself.