Spike pushed the door to the Summer's home open slowly and cringed when it
squeaked.
"Time to get some WD40," he mumbled, making a mental note to pick some up. He hung his dusted over the banister and went into the kitchen.
Dawn looked up from her perch on the counter and forced a weak smile.
"What's wrong, Nibblet? You get on up to bed now, pet," he told her, his voice was stern but fatherly.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Dawn's feet hit the side of the counter rythmically. The sound echoed throughout the nearly empty house.
"Can't sleep. Had another dream." Her feet stopped swinging and she looked at him with her big blue eyes. "I miss her so much."
Spike looked away, not able to meet her pain-filled gaze; not able to let her see his tears. "Me too, Nibblet. Me too."
Needing to be held, Dawn jumped off the counter with her sister's grace and hugged Spike. Without a second thought he wrapped his strong arms around her, holding her tightly to himself. After a moment, he let go and directed her to the stairs.
"I'll be in your mum's room. Get on up to bed." Spike followd her upstairs and turned to Buffy's room. He had never mustered up the courage to go in there. All he could do was stand in the doorway, taking in everything of her he could.
The essence of the girl, not the Slayer.
From the butterflies on the green and white walls, to Mr Gordo the pig on her shelf, back to the cross on her lamp, and finally to her vamity. The top was covered in makeup, vanilla perfume bottles, and candles. A double picture frame rested on the back corner. In one side was a photo of her, Willow, and Xander. To it's left was a picture of herself, her mother, and Dawn. A leather jacket hung off the back of the vanity's chair, while clean clothes were stacked neatly on the seat.
Not for the first time, Spike noticed her bed was unmade. The sheets were wrinkled and pushed to one side, the pillows still laying where she had left them.
He leaned lightly on the doorjamb, deciding if tonight was the night he would go in. With grim determination he took one step and entered her room. Immedeatly he was surrounded by her. Blinking back sudden tears, Spike wandered around the small room slowly. The vampire lightly trailed his fingertips over her chair, fingering the worn leather of her jacket. He lifted it and inhaled the scent- Leather, vanilla, and ginger. In short- Buffy.
He moved to the bed, letting the soft creme colored silk sheets slip through his fingers. A few strands of long blonde hair were on the pillowcases.
Entirely overwhelmed by her aura, Spike collapsed. His knees simply gave out and he sank onto the bed. He held his head in his hands as he wept. Crimson tears slid down his cheeks, overflowed his hands and stained the the creme silk.
"Time to get some WD40," he mumbled, making a mental note to pick some up. He hung his dusted over the banister and went into the kitchen.
Dawn looked up from her perch on the counter and forced a weak smile.
"What's wrong, Nibblet? You get on up to bed now, pet," he told her, his voice was stern but fatherly.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Dawn's feet hit the side of the counter rythmically. The sound echoed throughout the nearly empty house.
"Can't sleep. Had another dream." Her feet stopped swinging and she looked at him with her big blue eyes. "I miss her so much."
Spike looked away, not able to meet her pain-filled gaze; not able to let her see his tears. "Me too, Nibblet. Me too."
Needing to be held, Dawn jumped off the counter with her sister's grace and hugged Spike. Without a second thought he wrapped his strong arms around her, holding her tightly to himself. After a moment, he let go and directed her to the stairs.
"I'll be in your mum's room. Get on up to bed." Spike followd her upstairs and turned to Buffy's room. He had never mustered up the courage to go in there. All he could do was stand in the doorway, taking in everything of her he could.
The essence of the girl, not the Slayer.
From the butterflies on the green and white walls, to Mr Gordo the pig on her shelf, back to the cross on her lamp, and finally to her vamity. The top was covered in makeup, vanilla perfume bottles, and candles. A double picture frame rested on the back corner. In one side was a photo of her, Willow, and Xander. To it's left was a picture of herself, her mother, and Dawn. A leather jacket hung off the back of the vanity's chair, while clean clothes were stacked neatly on the seat.
Not for the first time, Spike noticed her bed was unmade. The sheets were wrinkled and pushed to one side, the pillows still laying where she had left them.
He leaned lightly on the doorjamb, deciding if tonight was the night he would go in. With grim determination he took one step and entered her room. Immedeatly he was surrounded by her. Blinking back sudden tears, Spike wandered around the small room slowly. The vampire lightly trailed his fingertips over her chair, fingering the worn leather of her jacket. He lifted it and inhaled the scent- Leather, vanilla, and ginger. In short- Buffy.
He moved to the bed, letting the soft creme colored silk sheets slip through his fingers. A few strands of long blonde hair were on the pillowcases.
Entirely overwhelmed by her aura, Spike collapsed. His knees simply gave out and he sank onto the bed. He held his head in his hands as he wept. Crimson tears slid down his cheeks, overflowed his hands and stained the the creme silk.