Relive
By: Peanutbutter
-thanks to the few people that are reviewing
Chapter 11 'Promise Me'
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Spike waited until it was dark and snuck out the window and into the night. The darkness enveloped him fully and he felt an odd chill racing up his spine. He didn't fell cold and hot, or he wasn't supposed to but tonight he felt like he might freeze to death. The sky was clear and the stars gleamed through the black/blue sky and onto his face. He remembered the stars that night he had promised, the promise that he had almost not kept, the one that he was desperate to forget. If only he had known how much his words would haunt him.
He'd left his stuff at the Watcher's house so they'd know he'd be back. In that bag was all he had left his past, or at least the only bits and pieces that mattered. He would be back for it, after all he had almost been killed over a couple of bent photos. He wasn't just going to leave those precious mementos in the hands of a pissed and threatened slayer. He just needed to get out. He needed to visit Buffy's grave. The first meeting had been interrupted because of said slayer and then it was his own sire, after that it had been Jack Daniels, Whiskey, and a bit of tequila. Now though there was nothing to stop him not even the threat of the demons that seemed to have a hefty price on his head or the on coming apocalypse. He'd been through more of those than he could count. It was surprising how numb one could get to things like that.
His thoughts were sporadic, but this time the randomness was there for a reason. He didn't want to think back on those nights that refused to leave him. He didn't want to think back on his promise, the one he'd kept even if he hadn't wanted to. Again his eyes strayed to the night sky as he entered the cemetery. The stars slightly blurry, his eye was still a little swollen. He didn't know who had done the worst the Slayer, with her one punch, or the gang of demons.
His combat style boot carried him to her grave, a dark granite headstone, that in his opinion was too plain for someone like her, but she had always wanted to be normal. She didn't want to be a martyr; she didn't want to be the hero. She wanted to have crushes and go to her prom, she wanted to graduate from college and have her parents cheer on her victory, but instead she had had prophecies and Watchers, late night patrols when she should have been at school dances, blood and gore, death and destruction, fear. Her boyfriends were vampires and one initiative boy who couldn't take what she really was, the wanker. Life had never been fair for Buffy Summers, but then again she had loved her life. So then again it's wasn't too plain, tombstone was fitting in its simplicity. It was normal, plain and what she had always wanted.
Spike dropped to his knees in front of the stone and sighed heavily. The motion made his broken ribs ache and he laid his hand across his chest savoring the pain. The pain was real, physical pain he'd always understood, ignored, everything was a little harder. If there was pain there was always a way to bring him back to his turgid reality, a way to make him realize that he was still standing, not breathing, but living, if only because he wasn't dust. Without her he'd never felt alive, only as if he were dying slowly. One the outside he was the ipitamy of youth, inside he was old, full of decay. He sat cross legged in front of her grave and closed his eyes. He imagined lithe form just in front of him an impish smile on her coral lips.
"Hey Slayer," he whispered heatedly and smiled. "It's been a while." He waited stupidly for an answer. It had never come before, but he always had to see. "I know you hate it when I just come by once a year, but look what happened to me this time." He gestured toward his face. "Not every one is as happy to see me as you are, luv."
Spike trailed off and picked at the grass around his feet looking so much younger than he was. "I never really know what to tell you, pet. So many things have happened since I was here last year. Not all of them good I might add, but hey still human blood free. It's been about eighty years now, but I don't like to count that brief period right after you death, s'not really fair. I was grief stricken' couldn't help myself." Spike sighed. "So it's not an excuse," he shrugged, "sue me."
Spike fell into silence again and looked past her grave and up and into the sky. It was so hard to talk to her. Hard to pretend she was away when sometimes he felt her close enough to him to touch. In his sleep she still lived, so how was it that she was so far away when he was awake? She hung on him like…well honestly he didn't know anything that stuck like she continued to. She was glued to what, his essence, his soul? That was stupid. He had no soul. He had no regret…or at least…mostly he had no regret.
Spike fell backwards into the grass and started to talk again, letting the grass cradle his fall. It was cool against his skin a relief from the warm night air. "There's a new slayer in Sunnydale now. I know never thought I'd see that again either. She's a really newbie, not trained, a little arrogant, and you know the best part," He paused as if waiting for an answer, "The bint's in love with her watcher, or at least he's got it for her. I'm sure it's happened before but…" He chuckled. "It's just that when I think Watcher I think Rupes' and well you and him that would be bloody hilarious."
As his laughs died down he fell into silence again.
Buffy wrapped her hands around his neck pulling him flush against her body and molding her mouth to his in a desperate and hungry kiss. His arms immediately snaked around her waist and one moved lower rubbing the small of her back before wrapping around her buttocks and pushing her hips into his growing erection. A soft moan escaped her lips as she latched onto him with a renewed frenzy.
Their kisses became more heated as her leg wrapped around his calf behind his knee and pulled him closer. Somewhere in their struggle to get closer to each other Spike slid his hand up her blouse and tickled the underside of her breast before cupping it fully and kneading it softly. His mouth moved from her lips to her jaw before settling on her ear and sucking it gently between his teeth his tongue running over her lobe.
Buffy felt her body melting against his as she leaned into his mouth and kissed a line down his neck to his shoulder. She bit the spot gently causing him to jump under her. It still amazed her that after all these years he still wanted her like this, with such unadulterated, raw passion. He still moaned when her hands made familiar paths down his body, as if it were the first time she'd touched him. His eyes always held such a longing in them, like he was amazed that she was there, and to tell the truth so was she. He hadn't left her, he was staying long haul and even if she kicked him out Buffy had a feeling he would camp outside her house night and day until she let him back in. He was hers as fully as she was his.
His hand other hand began pushing at her top and lifted it over her head before depositing it on the ground. She was too breathless to care where it landed. His hands were on her in an instant running over her flushed skin worshiping it with nips, kisses, and cold caresses. Buffy moaned and arched against him when he took her breast into his mouth.
Her hands were already running under his tight T-shirt pulling it from the waistband of his pants and over his head. He detached himself from her just long enough to toss it to the side and give her a longer hungry passion filled look before jumping back on her. Buffy fumbled with the belt buckle of his jeans and was almost breathless when she pulled the zipper down and Spike lowered them to the grass covered ground.
~~~~`
She was naked in the moonlight, feeling the cool breeze of a summer night running over her tingling skin and blowing her short wispy blond bangs into her eyes. Her hands were wrapped tightly around the warmed body over hers as they both breathed heavily. His face was buried in her neck and he still kissed and licked the tiny wounds he had made in her skin with his tongue. Before she was ready he flipped them both over making Buffy yelp as her back was suddenly exposed to the night air.
She slid down his side, his penis slipping out of her, and rested against his chest. His hand was around her waist stroking her stomach right above her belly button. His heavy breathing had stopped except for an occasional sigh of contentment. She wasn't worried about being caught completely naked in the less populated side of the Sunnydale cemetery. It was after all past three o'clock in the morning.
"You're right that was a lot more fun than checking out the cemetery on the east side." Buffy whispered against his skin and traced a pattern aimlessly on his chest.
"Sorry about that right here on the spot thing luv, but I can't help myself." He growled deep in his throat and looked at her. "You make me all horny when you fight."
"I think everything I do turns you on." Buffy commented. "You're insatiable."
"Speak for yourself, luv. You're the one that reached her hand down my pants and grabbed…" Buffy shut his mouth with a kiss and pulled away smiling.
"Shut up."
Spike had learned a long time ago that keeping his mouth shut got him a lot farther than keeping it open. He contented himself with rubbing her skin and looking at the stars. They were beautiful this time of night, and especially out here. There was far enough away from neighborhoods and street lamps from so their ethereal glow shown brightly across the darkened canvas of the sky.
"We're going to have to leave you know." Buffy said after a while. "I mean as much as I love lounging naked with you I don't think outside is the best place for it. I mean the sun will be up soon and I don't want to cuddle with a pile of dust."
Spike was silent for a moment and almost serious. "What would you do if I were a pile of dust?"
Buffy wrinkled her brow and Spike could feel her frown against his chest. "Is this some sort of love insecurity question, because I don't know if I can deal with a vampire harboring the pressures of low self-esteem."
"I'm serious." Spike said. "You know I'm not going to live forever I just want to make sure that you'll move on. You know find someone else."
Buffy sighed, her warm breath running over his cool skin. "For that matter, what about when I die? What will you do? Will you live on? Will you live another hundred years without sun bathing?"
"Forget I asked." Spike said suddenly and started to shift underneath her. "We'd better go."
"You're planning on going sunbathing aren't you!" Buffy accused. "I know that face."
"What face?" Spike asked exasperated. "This conversation had nothing to do with me. I was just asking a question. You've got to bloody turn everything around on me."
"Whoa." Buffy pushed Spike back into the grass and straddled his waist.
Normally Spike would have been very turned on by this. Her naked body spread out before him, free to touch, to taste… His thoughts began to become slightly wilder and his excitement that he thought was quelled began to rise quite literally underneath her lithe body. Spike reached his hands out to running them up her stomach in an attempt to reach her breasts but she grabbed his wrists and pushed the needy fingers away.
"Nope, not until Spikey answers the question," Buffy grinned impishly and ground down making Spike groan.
"What's with you Slayer?" Spike asked and growled in frustration. "Let me go."
"Just curious, I want to know what you would do. I want to know." She was serious her expression hard and unmoving.
"I'm with you for life Buffy. I'll be by your side until you die. I'll protect you and everything around you. Even if you leave me for someone else I'll watch over you and your children. I won't let anything happen to them, but when you're gone I'm gone too." Spike looked away from her and back at the stars. He wondered vaguely if they really had spoken to Drusilla all those years ago. Did the heavens, the stars hold secrets?
"What do you mean 'gone'?" Buffy asked.
Spike sighed and narrowed his eyes at her. She knew what he meant why was she making him say it. "You changed me Buffy made me what I am without you there's nothing left. I'd be dust without you."
"No," Buffy said shaking her head, "you're wrong. There's so much to you Spike. You made me feel alive. You brought me back. You're the man I never thought I would have."
"I'm not a man and when you die. I die to." Spike was serious as he looked at her and she released his hands letting hers rest on his chest.
She squeezed them into fists and looked down at him with tears in her eyes. "I love you Spike and I'll never leave you for someone else, and when you die I'll go on living because that's what you taught me. You taught me to live Spike, to feel. To feel passion, and hate, and devotion, loyalty, you taught me to feel love. A love so all consuming and encompassing that it burns me every time I'm with you. I've loved before but never like this, never with so much trust, never with so much abandon. I give you everything."
"Like I give you." Spike whispered. "You have all of me."
"No, without me you're still Spike! Now promise me you'll live without me Spike. Promise me. I'm not taking you with me. I'm not going to be responsible for your death. Tell me you'll live for me." Buffy said desperately.
Spike was speechless as he looked at her eyes full of tears and her face so scared and worried. He loved her for that, for worrying for him. She wanted him, a soulless creature, to live. The thing that stunned him most was the trust she had in him. "You're not afraid of what I'll become after you die?"
"I know what you are." Buffy said her voice a whisper as she lowered her face just inches from his. "You're Spike, a demon, a man, and my lover. You'll do what you do because that's what you are and I love what you are."
Spike closed the space between them and caught her lips with his in a short chaste kiss. "I love you Buffy." Spike felt his chest well with love and devotion as he kissed her. He took her again under the stars sealing the promise with their union. She trusted him, it was the only thing he'd ever wanted from her. Trust meant love and he would make sure she hadn't made a mistake.
~~~~~~~~~```` one year after Buffy's death Spike is without the chip
He'd finally gotten it out. His skull was free of that 'bit of plastic webbing out nasty blue shocks' as Drusilla had called it. He was no longer fangless but with plenty of fang actually. He was angry and ready to introduce the world to the new and improved Spike. He was bad, he was evil, and he was back. Taking a swaggering step down the darkened streets of San Diego, California Spike headed for a near by club he had been scoping out for a month now. It was time to be what he was meant to be. It was time for him to feed.
The inside was dark and smoky with the music at the perfect volume to suppress a scream. Man, he loved the age of rock 'n' roll it had been so hard to do this discreetly when music consisted of soft violin solos. Those screams never went over well, but in places like this were there was hardly enough room to breathe, it was perfect. People screamed in here all the time; it was part of the atmosphere and now he was as well. It had been a long time since he'd done this, a long time since he had tried, but it didn't matter it was what he was. He'd feel right again when he succumbed to what he was, a monster.
Spike slipped into the pulsing crowd of glowing sticks and sweat slicked bodies to find a spot on the bar to stand at. He ordered a few vodka shots and drank them quickly before scanning the crowd more seriously. He wanted someone easy. His trained eyes ran over the crowd of jumping males and females before his sites locked on a petite blond leaning against the far wall. She was talking to a couple of other chicks at her side, but she seemed to be very much with out a date. The skirt she was wearing was tight enough to leave very little to question and the midriff top showed off her toned stomach and her glinting belly button ring.
"Easy." He mumbled as he fell into the crowd pushing his way threw sometimes giving the ones in the way a shove harder than really necessary. There was no pain associated with these hits and Spike found himself smiling when he finally stopped in front to the blond. She had smoky gray eyes and full pouty lips. Her hair was just to her shoulders, nearly platinum but obviously fake in color. It wasn't as light as his, but it was on the way there. She gave him a positively feminine smile when he pushed his way in front of her..
"Hi." She said smiling and looking him over.
"'ello kitten." Spike addressed deepening his accent for more of an effect. "Wanna dance?"
"Sure thing Blondie." She quipped throwing in her own nick name.
Spike was pleased when she fell against him grinding against his front in time with the music. She looped her arms around his neck and sent him a completely wanton expression. She was almost going to be too easy. Spike smiled down at her and grabbed her roughly around the waist pulling her flush against his chest. She melted against his frame; smiling coyly at him her mouth curving upward with appreciation as she felt him pressing against her thigh.
"Someone's a little excited." She mumbled in his ear. "Do you wanna go? Have a little fun?"
"What's your name pet?" Spike asked his eyes trained on hers.
"Doesn't matter, I'm not looking for names I just want a little cock action and you seem willing enough." She grabbed him by the lapels of his coat and dragged him through the crowd.
This girl deserved to die Spike thought. She was willing to fuck anythingy with a cock. She didn't seem to realize that there were people, no, no, things like him running around. She weaved through the crowd easily and shouted a short goodbye to her wall buddies before pulling him out the door and into the alley. Once they were outside Spike grabbed her roughly and tossed her against the wall before attacking her mouth. She didn't taste good, like old whiskey and cheap perfume, but that wasn't what he was interested in he wanted her blood.
"Don't, uh, you want to go somewhere, ahh, softer." She moaned as Spike's hands roamed over her body and under her shirt.
"No, here suits me just fine." Spike whispered and pulled back so she could see his demon face. Her smoky eyes widened and her face twisted in panic as she started to pull away from him. Spike could smell the fear and adrenaline pumping through her veins as she struggled to live. This was supposed to sweeten his want. It was supposed to thrill him but all it did was make a wave of nausea sweep over him and settle in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to drop her and back away, but he wouldn't let himself. He reached upward and put a hand over her screaming mouth and pulled her further into the shadows.
When he finally looked at her again there were tears streaming down her cheeks and she was coughing as her breath refused to leave her throat. Her mascara had made long black tracks down her face and the sexuality she had been oozing moments ago was replaced by fear. She had turned into a pleading child.
"Pleeease…" She chocked as Spike continued to look at her unable to do anything. "Please don't kill me."
Spike didn't say anything but watched her struggle. He tried to focus on the blood rushing through her veins he tried to focus on the kill, but her pleas and words kept worming their way into his mind. They were tearing at him.
"You're not afraid of what I'll become after you die?"
"I know what you are. You're Spike, a demon, a man, and my lover. You'll do what you do because that's what you are and I love what you are."
"No, you're dead." Spike shook his head trying to ignore her words the trust she'd held in him. "You can't control me."
"Please let me go. Pleeeasee (choke) I don't want to die."
Spike looked back down at the withering blond and stiffened. He was a monster and Buffy had never meant anything to him, nothing, because none of this hurt. He didn't morn her. He didn't think about her. He was a killer. He killed things and he was going to kill this girl. Spike snarled viciously and ripped savagely into her neck. The first drops of her warm metallic blood ran down his throat quickly. Spike felt sick. Screaming in rage, Spike pulled away from her, blood still dripping from his lips. He turned to his side and spit viciously.
"Run, you stupid bint before I change my mind!" Spike shoved her against the wall and snarled again. She was shaking and still crying as if she were paralyzed. "Did you not hear me run!"
That was all the prompting she needed before she took off in the other direction. One of her earrings had been ripped off during the struggle. Spike bent down mournfully and wrapped his fist around the gaudy piece of blue plastic and fake silver. Spike wiped the remaining blood from his lips. He didn't notice the tears that were pooling in his eyes until he turned down the alley and started walking again. He had to leave. He had to get out of this place. He had to try again.
Spike watched the back of his seventh victim run out of the alley and into the street, screaming monster and resembling a lunatic. It was the seventh person he'd let escape his grasp. It was the fifth one he had actually tasted. This time he had almost done it, but instead of getting easier, it had just gotten harder. Every person had a story. Every one of them had a life, a will, and want to live. He hadn't been able to end those stories and it was driving him as insane.
After the blond he'd groped, kissed, and let go he hadn't been discriminate. He'd tried men, woman, teenagers, blonds, brunettes, red heads. He'd almost bitten people with brown eyes, piercings, with glasses, without. He had tried all of them and each time he'd felt worse. He was enraged and wanted to smash something, to break someone. The man he'd just let go had ranted about a family and children he'd tried to show Spike pictures of his kids. Spike had bitten him anyway and this time had almost drained the man to the point of unconsciousness but it had been too much and he'd let the man go. The blood that was supposed to stay inside him ran up his throat and danced out of his mouth splattering all over the ground. The dark red stain of the man's blood was still there. He stared at it absently for a moment and shuddered.
"What's wrong with me? What the soddin' hell is wrong with me?" He roared his question at the alley wall.. "I try to be rid of you, but I can't. I don't love you! You hear me! I don't love you or Dawn or the fucking hell the rest of them! I don't because then…" His sentence trailed off but he finished it in his head. 'because then I would care, and if I care it hurts too much...'
Spike screamed again going wild as he thought of it. His fists flew hitting whatever he could reach trashcans were knocked over and trash was strewn across the cement. His yellow eyes fell on the dark blue garbage bin and he stalked to it and picked it up as if it weighed nothing and tossed it into the wall. It hit the brick with a load bang and bent awkwardly before falling to the ground. The brick where the bin had hit was cracked.. Spike was still seething with rage and kicked a trashcan lid across the ground and watched it skid to a stop on the opposite wall.
"I don't love you! I don't love them." Spike cried and slammed his balled fists into the brick wall and didn't notice that his skin had split or the pain that came with it. "I don't love anything! I don't feel love, I don't feel guilt, I don't feel this pain..I…" His words trailed off as he fell to his knees cradling his fists in his lap. "I…I don't know what to do with out you." Spike sobbed his voice breaking as he clenched his fists trying to make the pain dull out the emotional pain coursing through his system. He wasn't supposed to feel this, and he didn't know how to deal with it. "Please, please come back to me, please don't leave me here, please don't leave here…"
He never realized how much his cries sounding like those of his victims. In the destroyed alley he curled into a ball. The sounds of his sobs echoed off the brick and back to his ears. He hoped that daylight would find him. He didn't want to be here anymore. He was confused and no matter how much he wanted to deny it he loved them. He loved her.
Spike woke to feel the oncoming of daylight making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He ignored the need to run and hide and stayed there his head fisted under his arms and wrapped in his black duster. "Just let me die." He whispered trying to ignore his promise to Buffy. "I can't do it. There's nothing of me left."
He felt the first prickling of sunlight on his pale skin, warming it at first, but the warmth soon spread over his entire body making him shudder the pleasant sensation turned to pain, and he felt his skin starting to burn. He could hear his hand, exposed to the sunlight, sizzling and crackling and he waited for the flames, he welcomed them. "I'm sorry." He whispered.
"Sorry my ass! Get up!"
Spike knew that voice, but ignored it. He waited for the end, sure the flames would appear on his body and crackle in his ears. There was nothing, no heat, no burn, in fact his hand was beginning to cool. Almost afraid he opened his eyes. His hand was healing, the burnt skin knitting itself back together.
"I'm not letting you die! I'm not letting you die like this! You promised this is your one chance your freebie. Don't do this to yourself. Give in to what you are Spike and live. Not for me but for yourself."
"Slayer?" Spike croaked his throat feeling raw and burned. He couldn't see her in fact the light was too bright making him squint before finally shutting his eyes completely. "Please come back to me."
"I'm gone Spike. You know I'm gone. You know I can't come back."
"What's happened to me?"
"You know what's happened."
Spike tried to open his eyes again, hoping to see her face but they felt as if they had weights attached to him. "Stay with me until nightfall."
Here voice was soft nearly a whisper, "Always."
Spike felt fingers running over his flesh soothing him like a breathe of sweet air. He felt her wrapping around him and he let a sigh of contentment leave his mouth. He imagined her spooned against his chest with his arms wrapped around her middle. He could almost feel her body against him. In her presence the anger resided and he was left with only a lingering peace. He didn't know how long he slept her body shielding him from the sun but he dreamed of her..
The crickets woke him. Stirring him from his slumber he pulled Buffy closer to him finding his face nuzzled against her chest. He grinned. "I love you Buffy."
"I'll always love you, Spike."
Spike started up her chest his eyes still closed. He felt a soft and cold whisper of a kiss on his lips and then his arms tightened on air and wrapped around his own chest. His eyes opened slowly and he noticed that his surroundings had changed. He was no longer in the alley but in an abandoned warehouse. It was night, he could barely see the moonlight shining through a broken window, and he was alone.
"I still remember how you saved me that day. I just, I don't know. I don't know what it was you were talking about." Spike swallowed. "I miss you so much pet. I still dream about you. It's been over a hundred years and I still can't get your face out of my mind. That should tell you something." Spike leaned over and rested his forehead on the tombstone. "You want me to help them don't you." There was no answer but Spike didn't need one. Deep down pushed beneath most of his denial he wanted to help, not just for her but for himself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~``````
"He's gone." Angel said pulling open the door and scanning the darkened room before flipping on the lights. "He went out the window." Angel growled and clenched his fists his anger getting the better of him before Cordelia touched him briefly and walked past him into the room. She walked over to the bed and knelt down beside the mattress and picked up a black duffle bag.
"He wouldn't leave this." Cordelia said with conviction. "He's coming back."
"What makes you so sure?" Angel spat angry at himself for letting Spike get away and not being able to get through to him.
"Look what he's got in the pockets." Cordelia said and reached into the front and pulled out a couple of dog-eared photos. There were pictures of all of them packed away in the beaten black bag. "He carries his life around in this bag. All he has left of Buffy and Dawn and the rest of them are in this bag. He wouldn't leave it."
"Right you are cheerleader." Spike said as he climbed his body quaking with pain through the open window. "But for future reference don't go pokin' through my stuff anymore." He stumbled across the room and plucked the pictures from the woman's hand and pushed them back into his bag. "Got to have a few things to myself."
Angel watched him for a moment feeling as if there was never enough he could say to his child. He was always in so much pain, it wasn't right and it wasn't fair. "Spike…about this thing with the slayer…"
Spike reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. Grimacing he pulled out a few sticks broken beyond repair before luck shined down on him and a intact fag fell into his palm. Smiling, he stuck it in his mouth and lit it with his every trusty silver lighter. "About that, mate, where do you suppose we start looking. I mean if I'm supposed to help with this little charade I'd like to know what I'm supposed to do." He turned his head slightly and gestured toward Cordelia indicating she hand him the mug that had once held his warmed blood in it. She handed it over and Spike used it to drop the ashes in.
"What…I mean what changed your mind?" Angel asked dumbfounded. The boy never stopped surprising him. Was it some sort of curse on his part? Just when he thought he knew his childe he threw him for a loop. "I mean you did a complete 180."
"No need for an explanation." Spike said between puffs as he rubbed absently at his bruised ribs. "I have been known to change my mind from time to time. It's not a bloody big deal. When I'm feelin' less on the dusty side of things we should talk to the Slayer, the Watcher and whoever, find out what the deal is."
"You never stop surprising me." Angel said shaking his head and backing away slowly. "Since when are you corporative."
"What can I say I'm like an onion." Spike smiled at Angel's visibly confused expression.
"What, you make people cry?"
"No I have layers." Spike said grinning. "You remember that flick? The animated one, you know with that kid from…" He trailed off for a moment, "I can't remember it was a bloody long time ago but he did the voice for this big green demon thing."
"Oh I do!" Cordelia said smiling. "That was a long time ago. It had that talking donkey in it!"
"Right, right and the short little Duke guy," Spike smiled and shot a look at Angel. "At least the demon girl had a little culture back then."
Angel gave him a condescending look. "I wasn't really into kiddy cartoons."
"Never knew what you were missing." Spike smirked and fell silent again as if he were remembering something important. "I'm bloody well tired though. I still need to heal a bit. Tell that watcher that he'll have his room back tomorrow, but right now I've got to go to sleep." He dropped his cigarette in the mug and watched it smoke for a second before setting it on the beside table. "Night all don't do anything I wouldn't when you get home."
"That's not much." Cordelia snorted and got to her feet and leaned over Spike's head and gave him a quick peck on top of his head. "I missed having you around." She said softly.
"Bloody hell you make me feel like I'm two." Spike said his voice not full of much venom. "Both of you get the hell out before I start bawling or brawling. I'm not quite sure which on it will be."
Okay what do you think?