Chapter 5: Return
Buffy decided to drive home for lunch. She stopped at the meat packing plant to get Spike's blood. She walked in her room, finding not one but two men. One was crudely bound in rope, recognizable as Spike. The other was surprising.
"Riley?!"
Spike was clearly furious. A muffled help escaped the bindings.
"What do you think you're doing?!"
"I thought...I thought he broke in!"
There was silence.
"What are you waiting for?! Untie him!"
Riley pulled out a knife and began to roughly cut the ropes.
"Easy with the goods, Captain Cardboard."
"You know I could 'accidentally' slip with this knife."
"There will be no slipping or I'll slip my fist through your
face."
As soon as he was loose he threw a left hook in Riley's direction.
"Ah! God!"
Spike stood by Buffy and Riley, now holding his nose, said muffled,
"Look I'm sorry to come barging in but I need your help."
She stared, unbelievingly.
"Where's Sam?" She asked harshly.
Riley stiffened and replied quietly.
"My whole South-American regime was murdered by
A Neblier. Sam was visiting and she got caught in the
Crossfire. So now I'm alone."
Spike interrupted, unfeeling.
"Oh, boo-hoo. Bloody well get on with it."
He pulled a cigarette from behind his ear and a lighter from his pocket.
"You know those things'll kill you," Spike threw him a look,
"Oh, right."
Buffy was getting irritated.
"So you followed the Needier-thingy here?"
"Neblier. And, yeah."
"I have work, but later tonight we'll move."
"Right. I'll be here."
An uncomfortable, seemingly endless, silence was broken when Buffy said,
"This is the part where you leave and don't come back for at
least six hours in order for me to Febreeze your smell away."
"Right then," he said, "I'm gone."
She stood, arms folded, for a while until Spike interrupted.
"I don't mean to interrupt your thinking process, pet, but you
smell like a slaughter house so I assume you have lunch."
She handed him the pint container.
"Good luck not getting mad-cow."
"Well, I'm sure if I was alive I'd be withering away as we
speak."
His face went bumpy and he chugged the blood. Buffy turned to the window, thinking she might be sick. She kept silent and Spike shook off the bumpies. He went up behind her, wrapping his arms around her.
"I'm sorry, love, I shouldn't do that in front of you."
"It's fine. I just—its fine."
He turned her around and leaned in to kiss her. But she stopped him.
"You smell like cow."
"Right then. I understand."
He turned away but she caught his arm.
"Obviously you don't because that whole 'cow-thing', is just
A smokescreen."
He smiled saying,
"I love you Buffy."
"I love you William."
He went weak in the knees. He could hardly believe his ears. He kissed her and embraced her.
Buffy decided to drive home for lunch. She stopped at the meat packing plant to get Spike's blood. She walked in her room, finding not one but two men. One was crudely bound in rope, recognizable as Spike. The other was surprising.
"Riley?!"
Spike was clearly furious. A muffled help escaped the bindings.
"What do you think you're doing?!"
"I thought...I thought he broke in!"
There was silence.
"What are you waiting for?! Untie him!"
Riley pulled out a knife and began to roughly cut the ropes.
"Easy with the goods, Captain Cardboard."
"You know I could 'accidentally' slip with this knife."
"There will be no slipping or I'll slip my fist through your
face."
As soon as he was loose he threw a left hook in Riley's direction.
"Ah! God!"
Spike stood by Buffy and Riley, now holding his nose, said muffled,
"Look I'm sorry to come barging in but I need your help."
She stared, unbelievingly.
"Where's Sam?" She asked harshly.
Riley stiffened and replied quietly.
"My whole South-American regime was murdered by
A Neblier. Sam was visiting and she got caught in the
Crossfire. So now I'm alone."
Spike interrupted, unfeeling.
"Oh, boo-hoo. Bloody well get on with it."
He pulled a cigarette from behind his ear and a lighter from his pocket.
"You know those things'll kill you," Spike threw him a look,
"Oh, right."
Buffy was getting irritated.
"So you followed the Needier-thingy here?"
"Neblier. And, yeah."
"I have work, but later tonight we'll move."
"Right. I'll be here."
An uncomfortable, seemingly endless, silence was broken when Buffy said,
"This is the part where you leave and don't come back for at
least six hours in order for me to Febreeze your smell away."
"Right then," he said, "I'm gone."
She stood, arms folded, for a while until Spike interrupted.
"I don't mean to interrupt your thinking process, pet, but you
smell like a slaughter house so I assume you have lunch."
She handed him the pint container.
"Good luck not getting mad-cow."
"Well, I'm sure if I was alive I'd be withering away as we
speak."
His face went bumpy and he chugged the blood. Buffy turned to the window, thinking she might be sick. She kept silent and Spike shook off the bumpies. He went up behind her, wrapping his arms around her.
"I'm sorry, love, I shouldn't do that in front of you."
"It's fine. I just—its fine."
He turned her around and leaned in to kiss her. But she stopped him.
"You smell like cow."
"Right then. I understand."
He turned away but she caught his arm.
"Obviously you don't because that whole 'cow-thing', is just
A smokescreen."
He smiled saying,
"I love you Buffy."
"I love you William."
He went weak in the knees. He could hardly believe his ears. He kissed her and embraced her.