The Ambassadors
"It's not exactly, " Buffy said, settling into her seat at the sidewalk cafe. "It's not that I don't miss him. I mean, in a way it's like --" Faith leaned closer across the table, and Buffy hesitated, wondering how crazy this was going to make her sound. "In a way it's like he's still there. The other day, I was walking across the Forum, and I saw this scrawny little punk kid, wearing a leather jacket and tight pants, with a safety pin in his nose. And looking about as tough as a Calvin Klein model. I hear this voice right behind me, just exactly, you know, the accent." She put on Spike's voice as well as she could. "'Well, look at the whelp with the Sid Vicious starter kit.' " She shook her head. "I'd never think something like that. I don't even know what some of those words mean."
Faith frowned. "So, what, Spike was there?"
"In Rome, in broad daylight, when he's been dead for four months?" Buffy shook her head. "No, actually, I turned around and it was this fat middle-aged Indian-looking guy. We talked for a while. He ended up being from the same part of London where Spike --" She paused.
"Did some of him most vicious killing?"
"Something like that. And by the end of the conversation, I almost wanted to hug him. Because you know, me and Spike? Did that all the time." She rolled her eyes, and thought, Don't you have anything to say about this? What, and miss the 'you flailing around trying to explain yourself' part of the conversation? For this one, love, I'm all ears. Buffy sighed. "So maybe I miss him. But what I mean to say is that I don't grieve for him."
Faith let out a half laugh.
Buffy stabbed a finger into the air in front of her. "I'm serious this time. I guess it sounds cold, but there's so much that's been lost. Mom and Tara and, well, me. I've even had practice killing my vampire boyfriends, right? And compared to -- I know I shouldn't be comparing. But with Mom and with Tara, there was just no sense to it. When I was seventeen years old, I spent six months thinking I'd sent Angel to hell forever. Instead of -- you know, just a hundred years. But Spike -- he'd been in this world for a pretty long time. He'd struggled with so much, with himself, and he finally found a way to be good. To be a champion. God even knows if he could have kept it up. But he went down at his moment of glory, when he had everything he wanted, and I guess if that had to happen -- if he wanted his sacrifice to mean something, the least I could do is let myself be happy about it."
"Yeah, well." Faith coughed. "Not to knock that theory. Because it's good as far as those things go, but -- everything he wanted? I wasn't around the guy for more than a few weeks, and we didn't exactly spend most of that time as intimate friends. But even I could see there was only one damn thing he wanted. I spent some time with him, down in the basement, the first night I was in town. And I really thought we hit it off. And not in a karate-chop hitting way, in a 'hey I can sort of see what Buffy sees in the whole vampire-with-a-soul gig.' And then you walked in the room, and B? I'm not always the first one to know when I'm licked, but I was licked." She paused. "I'm not saying it couldn't have happened with me and Spike, given the right sitch, because alive or undead, a guy's a guy, and a we both know a little bit of ass keeps them from seeing straight. Of course, I kind of ended up hating his guts. But saying I had been able to get over that and go for the hot vamp love. It wouldn't have been." She swallowed. "It wouldn't have been real. Is that funny?"
Buffy choked down a laugh. "More than you know. If it turned out that me and Spike were the one thing that was for real. . ."
"Oh there's plenty that's real for you. But I know there was only one thing that was real for him. And when he died he didn't have it." Buffy's face warmed as she looked at the table, and Faith asked, "Did he?"
"Now that," Buffy said, "Is the funny part of the story."
Faith's eyes widened and she crowed. "I knew it! Xander and Willow and Giles all said, no way, and I hadn't been around you as long so I went ahead and believed them but -- I knew it! You're a dirty bird." She fell back in the seat laughing. "Buffy's a dirty bird!"
"Hey, cool it!" Looking around at the disapproving glares of the cafe crowd, she demanded, as Faith-like as she could manage. "What are you looking at?" Then to the other girl. "Come on, Bianca. Remember, we're ambassadors of America here. No wonder everybody in Europe thinks we're crazy."
"They think we're crazy over the 'bomb first, ask questions later' thing, actually," said Faith. "Also, remember-" She patted the pocket that held her faux passport. "Canadian." She settled back in and lowered her voice. "So tell me about it, dirty bird. Was it the night he came looking for you and I kicked his ass through the ceiling?"
"That's not exactly the way I heard it," said Buffy. "But, hey, bygones, all right? And no, it was --" She swallowed. "Well -- a little bit, that night. But not the way you think. He went out and found me and -- it sounds weird but we talked, and that changed things. And after that we just -- well, it doesn't matter. But then the last night? Just those last few hours before we were set to wake up in the morning and raid the hellmouth? I was sitting outside feeling sorry for myself, thinking about everything that had happened with Spike and then suddenly it was just -- this is so stupid, what am I trying to prove to myself by being alone and miserable, while Spike's fifty feet away on the other side of that wall? So I walked down the stairs, and I just stood there and looked at him and it was like he knew."
Faith smirked. "Woman on a mission."
"I don't know about that. I really wasn't sure what I was going to say to him until I got there. And he was lying on the bed, and he just looked at me and he stood up and stepped toward me and said . . ." Buffy swallowed. "He said, 'Nice try.'"
"Nice try?" Faith repeated, then in dawning comprehension. "Oh. Because, the First had been appearing to him. Looking like you. So he saw you and his first thought was. . ."
Buffy nodded. "A trick. That must have been what he thought, another last minute head game. But I didn't move, I just looked at him, and I said his name."
"Spi-ike. . ." Faith teased the word into a sultry growl.
"No." Buffy shook her head. "I said his other name." To Faith's blank stare, she said. "William, his human name was William. And I'd only called him that -- well, not often. But let's just say the occasions were memorable. And somehow that worked. Somehow he knew that was what I would say to him. Because right away, he was on his knees."
"Oooooh."
"Not like that," Buffy snapped. "Well -- not right away like that. At first he was just touching me -- my legs, my -- well all over. Like he needed to make sure it wasn't another trick. And then . . ." She shook her head. "Yadda yadda. I can't do this part."
Faith tilted her head, curious. "See it doesn't sound like it was just yadda yadda. Like maybe there was something more to it."
"Yeah, there --" Buffy sighed. "I've been thinking it would help to talk about it. To someone. But really -- Willow's lost somebody who meant so much to her. It's just so hard, it would feel like I was comparing my loss to hers. And seriously, she never really got the me-and-Spike thing. Because, you know -- she's sane. And who else, Xander who hated his guts? Giles who, well, hated his guts? And besides, no thanks. Dawn, she loved Spike in her own way, too. And I know she's more of a grownup than I give her credit for, but still -- little sister is a little sister. So -- you and I, we're not exactly close, and it's the understatement of the geological period to say that we haven't always gotten along. But somehow I feel like if I'm going to try to explain it to someone. . . Bianca," she said, then leaning close enough to whisper, "Faith. I slept with Spike on his last night on earth and. . .God, this is so hard to say." She looked up, looked down, looked away, apologized, Forgive me, lover, but I'm not saying anything both of us don't know. "Faith," she repeated, putting careful emphasis on each word. "It -was -so - bad."
"It's not exactly, " Buffy said, settling into her seat at the sidewalk cafe. "It's not that I don't miss him. I mean, in a way it's like --" Faith leaned closer across the table, and Buffy hesitated, wondering how crazy this was going to make her sound. "In a way it's like he's still there. The other day, I was walking across the Forum, and I saw this scrawny little punk kid, wearing a leather jacket and tight pants, with a safety pin in his nose. And looking about as tough as a Calvin Klein model. I hear this voice right behind me, just exactly, you know, the accent." She put on Spike's voice as well as she could. "'Well, look at the whelp with the Sid Vicious starter kit.' " She shook her head. "I'd never think something like that. I don't even know what some of those words mean."
Faith frowned. "So, what, Spike was there?"
"In Rome, in broad daylight, when he's been dead for four months?" Buffy shook her head. "No, actually, I turned around and it was this fat middle-aged Indian-looking guy. We talked for a while. He ended up being from the same part of London where Spike --" She paused.
"Did some of him most vicious killing?"
"Something like that. And by the end of the conversation, I almost wanted to hug him. Because you know, me and Spike? Did that all the time." She rolled her eyes, and thought, Don't you have anything to say about this? What, and miss the 'you flailing around trying to explain yourself' part of the conversation? For this one, love, I'm all ears. Buffy sighed. "So maybe I miss him. But what I mean to say is that I don't grieve for him."
Faith let out a half laugh.
Buffy stabbed a finger into the air in front of her. "I'm serious this time. I guess it sounds cold, but there's so much that's been lost. Mom and Tara and, well, me. I've even had practice killing my vampire boyfriends, right? And compared to -- I know I shouldn't be comparing. But with Mom and with Tara, there was just no sense to it. When I was seventeen years old, I spent six months thinking I'd sent Angel to hell forever. Instead of -- you know, just a hundred years. But Spike -- he'd been in this world for a pretty long time. He'd struggled with so much, with himself, and he finally found a way to be good. To be a champion. God even knows if he could have kept it up. But he went down at his moment of glory, when he had everything he wanted, and I guess if that had to happen -- if he wanted his sacrifice to mean something, the least I could do is let myself be happy about it."
"Yeah, well." Faith coughed. "Not to knock that theory. Because it's good as far as those things go, but -- everything he wanted? I wasn't around the guy for more than a few weeks, and we didn't exactly spend most of that time as intimate friends. But even I could see there was only one damn thing he wanted. I spent some time with him, down in the basement, the first night I was in town. And I really thought we hit it off. And not in a karate-chop hitting way, in a 'hey I can sort of see what Buffy sees in the whole vampire-with-a-soul gig.' And then you walked in the room, and B? I'm not always the first one to know when I'm licked, but I was licked." She paused. "I'm not saying it couldn't have happened with me and Spike, given the right sitch, because alive or undead, a guy's a guy, and a we both know a little bit of ass keeps them from seeing straight. Of course, I kind of ended up hating his guts. But saying I had been able to get over that and go for the hot vamp love. It wouldn't have been." She swallowed. "It wouldn't have been real. Is that funny?"
Buffy choked down a laugh. "More than you know. If it turned out that me and Spike were the one thing that was for real. . ."
"Oh there's plenty that's real for you. But I know there was only one thing that was real for him. And when he died he didn't have it." Buffy's face warmed as she looked at the table, and Faith asked, "Did he?"
"Now that," Buffy said, "Is the funny part of the story."
Faith's eyes widened and she crowed. "I knew it! Xander and Willow and Giles all said, no way, and I hadn't been around you as long so I went ahead and believed them but -- I knew it! You're a dirty bird." She fell back in the seat laughing. "Buffy's a dirty bird!"
"Hey, cool it!" Looking around at the disapproving glares of the cafe crowd, she demanded, as Faith-like as she could manage. "What are you looking at?" Then to the other girl. "Come on, Bianca. Remember, we're ambassadors of America here. No wonder everybody in Europe thinks we're crazy."
"They think we're crazy over the 'bomb first, ask questions later' thing, actually," said Faith. "Also, remember-" She patted the pocket that held her faux passport. "Canadian." She settled back in and lowered her voice. "So tell me about it, dirty bird. Was it the night he came looking for you and I kicked his ass through the ceiling?"
"That's not exactly the way I heard it," said Buffy. "But, hey, bygones, all right? And no, it was --" She swallowed. "Well -- a little bit, that night. But not the way you think. He went out and found me and -- it sounds weird but we talked, and that changed things. And after that we just -- well, it doesn't matter. But then the last night? Just those last few hours before we were set to wake up in the morning and raid the hellmouth? I was sitting outside feeling sorry for myself, thinking about everything that had happened with Spike and then suddenly it was just -- this is so stupid, what am I trying to prove to myself by being alone and miserable, while Spike's fifty feet away on the other side of that wall? So I walked down the stairs, and I just stood there and looked at him and it was like he knew."
Faith smirked. "Woman on a mission."
"I don't know about that. I really wasn't sure what I was going to say to him until I got there. And he was lying on the bed, and he just looked at me and he stood up and stepped toward me and said . . ." Buffy swallowed. "He said, 'Nice try.'"
"Nice try?" Faith repeated, then in dawning comprehension. "Oh. Because, the First had been appearing to him. Looking like you. So he saw you and his first thought was. . ."
Buffy nodded. "A trick. That must have been what he thought, another last minute head game. But I didn't move, I just looked at him, and I said his name."
"Spi-ike. . ." Faith teased the word into a sultry growl.
"No." Buffy shook her head. "I said his other name." To Faith's blank stare, she said. "William, his human name was William. And I'd only called him that -- well, not often. But let's just say the occasions were memorable. And somehow that worked. Somehow he knew that was what I would say to him. Because right away, he was on his knees."
"Oooooh."
"Not like that," Buffy snapped. "Well -- not right away like that. At first he was just touching me -- my legs, my -- well all over. Like he needed to make sure it wasn't another trick. And then . . ." She shook her head. "Yadda yadda. I can't do this part."
Faith tilted her head, curious. "See it doesn't sound like it was just yadda yadda. Like maybe there was something more to it."
"Yeah, there --" Buffy sighed. "I've been thinking it would help to talk about it. To someone. But really -- Willow's lost somebody who meant so much to her. It's just so hard, it would feel like I was comparing my loss to hers. And seriously, she never really got the me-and-Spike thing. Because, you know -- she's sane. And who else, Xander who hated his guts? Giles who, well, hated his guts? And besides, no thanks. Dawn, she loved Spike in her own way, too. And I know she's more of a grownup than I give her credit for, but still -- little sister is a little sister. So -- you and I, we're not exactly close, and it's the understatement of the geological period to say that we haven't always gotten along. But somehow I feel like if I'm going to try to explain it to someone. . . Bianca," she said, then leaning close enough to whisper, "Faith. I slept with Spike on his last night on earth and. . .God, this is so hard to say." She looked up, looked down, looked away, apologized, Forgive me, lover, but I'm not saying anything both of us don't know. "Faith," she repeated, putting careful emphasis on each word. "It -was -so - bad."