Chapter Four: Spiral
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1225
Buffy had this nasty habit of stomping into my crypt at all hours of the day and night. Just two days before she came running in there, dropped Dawn off, and left again without explaining herself or saying thank you. Not as if I would have said no, but still. It would be nice to hear it.
Of course, every time I thought about the last time she thanked me, my lips got all tingly...
"I won't forget it."
Yeah. Neither would I. I thought about it sometimes when I didn't have anything better to do.
Okay. I thought about it all the time. It's what I was thinking about when she came stomping into my crypt in the middle of the afternoon.
"I need your help." She seemed panicked, but she was hiding it well. Putting on an air of self-control. But there was terror under the surface; I could feel it. Two months before I would have raised an eyebrow and offered some slick innuendo. Or maybe asked for money. Possibly run my tongue between my teeth. Not now, though. The time for single entendres had passed several weeks ago.
I hopped off my sarcophagus. "With what?"
"I need a car. Or, a van. Maybe a station wagon." She looked at me imploringly, almost as if she expected me to blink and materialize one out of thin air.
I blinked, but no vehicle appeared. "Why?"
"We've got to get out of town. Glory knows Dawn is the key."
Shit. "How?" I moved toward her.
"I... We don't have time for that right now. Can you help me? Please?"
Please? Did she just say 'please?' "Yeah. Of course." But why me? "But doesn't Xander have a car? Or Giles?"
"Yeah, but we won't all fit." She paced around the crypt like a caged animal.
"'All?' Who are you taking with you?"
"Dawn and Willow and Xander and Giles and Anya and Tara..." She ticked each name off on her fingers.
"Oh, lovely." I rolled my eyes but softened my tone. "Field trip for the whole gang."
"They're not safe here. Glory's coming after Dawn. Anyone in her way could just..."
"I get it. So, a van, then. Something big."
She nodded anxiously.
As it was the middle of the day, I led her down through the tunnels. I had been leading the Summers women through these tunnels a little too frequently for my taste. Buffy was silent for the whole trip, but she followed closely behind me, spurring me on with the waves of urgency that radiated off her.
When we were underneath Sunnydale Place-- a charming little mobile home court where nobody batted an eye if your wife was also your cousin-- I stopped and looked at her. "We're going up. Stay behind me." I pulled my duster over my head and bolted out of the tunnel and across a yard, dodging several hot pink flamingos and one really ugly ceramic troll. I stopped short in a wide patch of dark shade between two run-down double-wides and Buffy nearly ran into my back.
"Hey!" Buffy started to shout at me, but I quickly placed a finger over my lips.
"Shhhh!" I whispered. "Stealthy. I know you know stealthy, Slayer. In theory, anyway."
She gave me a look. "What are we doing here, Spike?" she hissed at me.
I pointed to my left. "Winnebago. Seats seven. Better than a van for long road trips."
"We're going to ste--" She looked indignant momentarily, but she seemed to remember the situation and she gave up. "What's the plan?"
"Do you know how to hotwire a Winnebago?" I asked sarcastically.
She didn't justify my question with an answer, just narrowed her eyes and tilted her head.
I shrugged. "Well, I'm going to go steal that camper. Are you coming with me?"
She nodded. I counted to three and then took off running toward the vehicle, Buffy following closely behind me. I ran up to the passenger door and pulled, anticipating that it would be locked and I'd have to break the window with my elbow. Instead, it opened with a rusty creak and I hurried into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind me. It rattled on its hinges. Buffy ran around to the passenger side and climbed in beside me.
I looked at her, then looked down at the steering wheel. The keys were in the ignition. Gas tank was full.
"Well. That's got to be a sign, doesn't it?" I gestured toward the keys.
"That we were fated to steal this Winnebago? Sure." Buffy shrugged absently. "I told everyone I'd pick them up two streets behind Xander's house, in the alley between that collector's shop and the law library." She reached absently behind her, fingers groping for a non-existent seat belt. Finding nothing, she dropped her hands into her lap and leaned forward, anticipating.
I turned the keys and the ignition sputtered to life, surprising the hell out of me. Must be someone's lucky day.
"Okay, well, let me just drop myself off at the cemetery and then you all can get going."
"What?" She whirled her head around to face me, eyes wide.
"Well, it's daylight and I don't fancy walking home on fire." She continued to stare blankly at me. Did she really expect me to just let myself out on the corner in broad daylight?
"No. I mean, you're coming with us."
It was my turn to whirl around to face her.
"What? Why?"
She looked at me sheepishly. "Well, I mean, if you don't want to... But I just... Dawn likes having you around. I think it makes her feel safer."
That was all the explanation I wanted. Of course, honestly, I didn't need any explanation at all.
I put the thing in gear and drove quickly out of the park, careful to stay on the shady streets.
"Okay. Sure." I nodded. "But-- um..." The sun was on Buffy's side of the seats now but wouldn't always be.
"Oh. Oh! We can cover the windows." She jumped out of her seat and ran to the kitchen section of the Winnie. I slowed to a stop on a shaded side road and joined her.
"Ah! Tinfoil!" I stood and watched as she used half the roll to cover the windshield and front windows.
"Okay. But now nobody can see to drive," I pointed out from the back, where I was rummaging through the bedroom.
"Yeah. I got that." She walked back to the kitchenette, grabbed a knife and used it to cut a perfect rectangle in the tinfoil in front of the driver's seat.
"There."
I exited the bedrom wearing my discovery-- an antiquated pair of aviator sunglasses-- and carrying several maps of California.
"Here." I handed the maps to Buffy. "You should probably figure out where we're headed before we start to head there."
She looked at me and bit her lip. "Uh... Thanks."
I moved past her and up to the front of the camper. "No problem." I watched her sit down at the kitchen table and spread the maps out in front of her. We drove in silence for a few minutes.
Then, as I was pulling down the alley where we were to meet the rest of the happy travelers, she turned to me. "Thanks, Spike."
"Anytime."
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1225
Buffy had this nasty habit of stomping into my crypt at all hours of the day and night. Just two days before she came running in there, dropped Dawn off, and left again without explaining herself or saying thank you. Not as if I would have said no, but still. It would be nice to hear it.
Of course, every time I thought about the last time she thanked me, my lips got all tingly...
"I won't forget it."
Yeah. Neither would I. I thought about it sometimes when I didn't have anything better to do.
Okay. I thought about it all the time. It's what I was thinking about when she came stomping into my crypt in the middle of the afternoon.
"I need your help." She seemed panicked, but she was hiding it well. Putting on an air of self-control. But there was terror under the surface; I could feel it. Two months before I would have raised an eyebrow and offered some slick innuendo. Or maybe asked for money. Possibly run my tongue between my teeth. Not now, though. The time for single entendres had passed several weeks ago.
I hopped off my sarcophagus. "With what?"
"I need a car. Or, a van. Maybe a station wagon." She looked at me imploringly, almost as if she expected me to blink and materialize one out of thin air.
I blinked, but no vehicle appeared. "Why?"
"We've got to get out of town. Glory knows Dawn is the key."
Shit. "How?" I moved toward her.
"I... We don't have time for that right now. Can you help me? Please?"
Please? Did she just say 'please?' "Yeah. Of course." But why me? "But doesn't Xander have a car? Or Giles?"
"Yeah, but we won't all fit." She paced around the crypt like a caged animal.
"'All?' Who are you taking with you?"
"Dawn and Willow and Xander and Giles and Anya and Tara..." She ticked each name off on her fingers.
"Oh, lovely." I rolled my eyes but softened my tone. "Field trip for the whole gang."
"They're not safe here. Glory's coming after Dawn. Anyone in her way could just..."
"I get it. So, a van, then. Something big."
She nodded anxiously.
As it was the middle of the day, I led her down through the tunnels. I had been leading the Summers women through these tunnels a little too frequently for my taste. Buffy was silent for the whole trip, but she followed closely behind me, spurring me on with the waves of urgency that radiated off her.
When we were underneath Sunnydale Place-- a charming little mobile home court where nobody batted an eye if your wife was also your cousin-- I stopped and looked at her. "We're going up. Stay behind me." I pulled my duster over my head and bolted out of the tunnel and across a yard, dodging several hot pink flamingos and one really ugly ceramic troll. I stopped short in a wide patch of dark shade between two run-down double-wides and Buffy nearly ran into my back.
"Hey!" Buffy started to shout at me, but I quickly placed a finger over my lips.
"Shhhh!" I whispered. "Stealthy. I know you know stealthy, Slayer. In theory, anyway."
She gave me a look. "What are we doing here, Spike?" she hissed at me.
I pointed to my left. "Winnebago. Seats seven. Better than a van for long road trips."
"We're going to ste--" She looked indignant momentarily, but she seemed to remember the situation and she gave up. "What's the plan?"
"Do you know how to hotwire a Winnebago?" I asked sarcastically.
She didn't justify my question with an answer, just narrowed her eyes and tilted her head.
I shrugged. "Well, I'm going to go steal that camper. Are you coming with me?"
She nodded. I counted to three and then took off running toward the vehicle, Buffy following closely behind me. I ran up to the passenger door and pulled, anticipating that it would be locked and I'd have to break the window with my elbow. Instead, it opened with a rusty creak and I hurried into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind me. It rattled on its hinges. Buffy ran around to the passenger side and climbed in beside me.
I looked at her, then looked down at the steering wheel. The keys were in the ignition. Gas tank was full.
"Well. That's got to be a sign, doesn't it?" I gestured toward the keys.
"That we were fated to steal this Winnebago? Sure." Buffy shrugged absently. "I told everyone I'd pick them up two streets behind Xander's house, in the alley between that collector's shop and the law library." She reached absently behind her, fingers groping for a non-existent seat belt. Finding nothing, she dropped her hands into her lap and leaned forward, anticipating.
I turned the keys and the ignition sputtered to life, surprising the hell out of me. Must be someone's lucky day.
"Okay, well, let me just drop myself off at the cemetery and then you all can get going."
"What?" She whirled her head around to face me, eyes wide.
"Well, it's daylight and I don't fancy walking home on fire." She continued to stare blankly at me. Did she really expect me to just let myself out on the corner in broad daylight?
"No. I mean, you're coming with us."
It was my turn to whirl around to face her.
"What? Why?"
She looked at me sheepishly. "Well, I mean, if you don't want to... But I just... Dawn likes having you around. I think it makes her feel safer."
That was all the explanation I wanted. Of course, honestly, I didn't need any explanation at all.
I put the thing in gear and drove quickly out of the park, careful to stay on the shady streets.
"Okay. Sure." I nodded. "But-- um..." The sun was on Buffy's side of the seats now but wouldn't always be.
"Oh. Oh! We can cover the windows." She jumped out of her seat and ran to the kitchen section of the Winnie. I slowed to a stop on a shaded side road and joined her.
"Ah! Tinfoil!" I stood and watched as she used half the roll to cover the windshield and front windows.
"Okay. But now nobody can see to drive," I pointed out from the back, where I was rummaging through the bedroom.
"Yeah. I got that." She walked back to the kitchenette, grabbed a knife and used it to cut a perfect rectangle in the tinfoil in front of the driver's seat.
"There."
I exited the bedrom wearing my discovery-- an antiquated pair of aviator sunglasses-- and carrying several maps of California.
"Here." I handed the maps to Buffy. "You should probably figure out where we're headed before we start to head there."
She looked at me and bit her lip. "Uh... Thanks."
I moved past her and up to the front of the camper. "No problem." I watched her sit down at the kitchen table and spread the maps out in front of her. We drove in silence for a few minutes.
Then, as I was pulling down the alley where we were to meet the rest of the happy travelers, she turned to me. "Thanks, Spike."
"Anytime."