Chapter 17 - Money to Burn
Gina and I set out on our shopping trip a couple of days later. Wes still wants to do some work before we go to Vegas, but he has managed to get his hands on enough money to make my monthly outlay look a bit basic.
To Spike's intense disappointment, Wes gave me the money in the form of a credit card, with strict instructions that Spike wasn't to touch it. So that's why he's skulking beside Gina and me as we look through the latest collections.
Things have been better the last couple of days. I don't think either one of us is exactly comfortable yet, but he seems much more like his old self. At least … he's like an amalgamation of his old selves.
The soul changed him when he first got it. He became more emotionally vulnerable than he had been, and he lost some of the natural exuberance that had always been his trademark. Of course, before he saved the world, he got a lot of that back, but there was still something about him - a lack of confidence perhaps - and to a large extent that's still present - maybe even worse than in those last days.
I don't think it's the soul that's responsible now, though. This time, it's his humanity. He seems to be just waiting for me to do or say something that will vindicate his own belief that human-Spike isn't worthy of love. And if I ever get my hands on the people who made him feel that way, then I might not be responsible for my actions.
So, as I said, here we are. And it's putting a bit of a damper on things having him standing around. He seemed interested at first, but as the morning's gone on, and we've moved from store to store, he's just become more and more irritating.
"Ok, Spike," I say, putting the dress I'd been admiring back on the rack. "Let's do some shopping for you. Then, if you want, you can go home and leave Gina and I to finish."
"If you don't mind," Gina smiles at me, "I'll go and sit down and have a drink."
"Gina, you should have said you were tired!"
"Buffy, I'm fine, and I wouldn't miss this for anything. Getting to spend this much money on clothes even by proxy? I'm going to remember this for a long time. But, you and Spike should go and look at things for him. What do you have in mind anyway?"
"I can talk too," Spike reminds us. "And it doesn't matter what Buffy has in mind, because I'm going to decide what I wear. Now, there was that coffee place we passed a couple of minutes ago - would that be ok?"
He's ignoring me, and talking directly to Gina.
"Yeah, that'd be fine."
"Ok, why don't I escort you there, while Moneybags here pays for whichever fripperies she's chosen. Then I'll meet her outside of here in five minutes."
"I don't need an escort," Gina reminds him.
"Of course you don't. Doesn't mean you don't get one."
And, just like that, they're off, and I'm left there feeling forgotten. Still, it's probably better this way. If we can get rid of Spike, then Gina and I can go and look at some more personal stuff. Of course, the idea of Spike seeing that sort of thing is distinctly pleasurable, but I'd rather that the first time he sees them, I'll actually be wearing them.
Spike returns as he said he would, although it seems closer to fifteen minutes than five. I decide not to say anything about that, and instead ask him, "Ok, what did you have in mind?"
He immediately points to a store across the way. I follow the line of his finger, and sigh deeply. It sells leather, and while Spike in leather is definitely something to be encouraged, I can't help but think it's not right for the current situation.
"Maybe later, Spike," I tell him, waiting for the rejoinder, but instead he grins at me. I ignore this unexpected reaction, and make a suggestion of my own. "You're going to need at least one suit, and a couple of formal shirts and ties, but the rest can be casual, providing it's upscale enough. Let's start in that department store over there, see what they've got."
He shrugs, and we walk to the men's department. I ignore the more basic makes, and head for the designer things. I start picking out casual shirts in a variety of shades - from navy to cornflower blue, teal to maroon. He picks out some black and red. I decide to let the black go - I mean, Spike and black, they sort of go together, but the red just looks - tacky. I point out a burgundy colour instead, and he shrugs and accepts it.
Next, we go and look at pants. He steers towards jeans, but I persuade him to look at some classier stuff, chinos and the like. He huffs a bit, but eventually accepts a few suggestions, then goes off to try them on.
Spike in colours - it's a revelation. Actually, now that he's got a bit of colour in his skin, the black is a little harsh, while a dark navy is much more flattering. Still, if I can get him out of jeans and t-shirts, it'll be a start.
I suppose I should have known it, but I don't think there's a blue he doesn't look terrific in. Even he seems rather pleasantly surprised. I suppose the whole 'no reflection' thing makes it hard to see what suits you, and despite the fact that there're a few recognisably Spike items in the mix, I pronounce myself happy with what we buy.
"Ok," I say, as we pick up our bags. "We need the suit."
"Why?" he asks.
I just glare at him.
"Why would I need a suit? I'm assuming our purported reason for being in Vegas is for a holiday, so why would I need a suit?"
"I just thought …"
"What? That you'd like to dress me up like one of those stupid dolls?"
"No, it's just …"
"I'm not wearing a suit, and that's flat. So, anything else you think I should have?"
He looks determined, and I'm tempted to argue, but he's right. A suit probably isn't necessary, much as I'd love to see him in one.
"Ok, what about underwear, and something to sleep in?"
"Don't wear any, as you jolly well know."
"I know he … Spike didn't, but I thought, maybe, as a human, it'd be … more comfortable."
"I won't deny it was easier before, but I'm not about to change the habits of a century."
"Ok," I shrug. "So, anything else?"
"A nice watch might be a good idea."
I think about it. He's right, he could do with a watch, and a run of the mill Casio just wouldn't look the part.
"Ok," I agree, casting around for a jewellers.
"Passed one back a ways."
"Oh," I remember. "What time did you say we'd meet Gina?"
"Didn't. No point in her hanging around if we get delayed. Said we'd call her when we've finished."
I feel a pang of envy. He's being so thoughtful of Gina, more so than he's been of me since he came back. I know, pregnant lady, and in his time, pregnant ladies were expected to sit around a lot with their feet up, so I get his feelings. Just wish they were directed at me.
And then I make the connection. I don't know why it hadn't occurred to me, but the thought of Spike treating me like that, follows on to the idea of me being pregnant. With his child. With Angel, well, before he had other ideas, being pregnant was something for the distant future, when he'd won his reward. With Spike, that possibility is immediate, or at least it would be, if he could only accept my feelings for him aren't mistaken.
I realise he's looking at me quizzically, so I pull my mind back to the present.
"What's the smile for?" he asks.
Smile? I was smiling? Can't tell him the truth, so I desperately think of an alternative.
"I was just thinking I might see something in the jewellers too."
"Oh, yeah. Something with diamonds, and white gold."
He says that as if it's something he's thought about, and I don't mean in the last few minutes.
He looks away when I scrutinise his face, as if he realises he gave away more than he intended.
We pass the leather store as we walk, and I can't help but notice the look he gives a jacket in the window. Although it's leather, it's very different from the coat he always wears - it's cut like a suit coat, short and it would look great on him. We walk past, and he doesn't say anything, so I decide not to let him know I noticed.
We arrive at the jewellers, and it doesn't take Spike long to find a watch that meets his requirements. But then again, why he needs water resistance to that depth, I can't begin to understand. I've been browsing around while Spike was choosing, but I was keeping an eye on him, so I haven't seen very much. Having made his choice, Spike whispers something to the assistant who gives me a knowing look before disappearing.
"What did you say?" I ask.
"Just asked him to bring out something for you to try."
"What? I can't choose for myself?"
"Course you can, Pet. You've got the card, after all. Just, humour me, and try this. Spotted it when we first came in, and thought you'd like it."
The assistant returns with an ensemble that's simply lovely, and beautifully simple. As he suggested, it's white gold, and it consists of earrings, a necklace and bracelet. The earrings are of a simple drop design, with small, but beautifully cut diamonds at the bottom. The bracelet is made of plates, and every third one is set with a diamond to match the earrings, although a little bigger. The necklace is a bigger version of the bracelet, with the addition of a drop pendant which is spectacular.
I try it on, and admire myself in the mirror supplied. It's really beautiful, but one glance at the price tag, and I know the advance Wes gave me won't cover it. I make appropriately appreciative noises, but reject it. While the assistant is returning it to its home, I tell Spike it's too expensive.
"For now, maybe," he shrugs. "Come and look at this."
He drags me over to another display, and points out another set. It's actually somewhat similar in design, although on a smaller scale. There are small diamonds on the earrings, and there's a much smaller drop pendant on the necklace, but otherwise it's unadorned. Beautiful as the other set was, this one is actually more attractive. The price is still more than I would have considered, so I compromise and just get the necklace and earrings. I can't help but think a bracelet would actually get in the way if I have to fight.
We emerge a short while later with our purchases. Spike took my cell phone out of my purse while I was paying for things, and he's chatting to Gina when I emerge.
To hear his side of the conversation, you'd think they'd been friends for years, and again, I feel a pang of jealousy, and then guilt. I'm jealous of the easy camaraderie they seem to have developed, and guilty because he never had friends before. No, that's not true, he had Clem, but I'm not sure he'd have described his other poker buddies as friends. Before, my friends either tolerated him or hated him, and I never had to worry about feeling unimportant to him. Apart from that time with Anya, he never gave me any reason to doubt that I was the centre of his world.
Now, he's got everything. I shudder when I realise that he could walk away from me and find someone else. He could make a life with another woman, have a family, the whole package. The idea leaves me chilled.
"Cold, Pet?" he asks. He's finished talking to Gina, and he's looking at me with a mixture of concern and surprise on his face. I hadn't realised that the chill had actually caused me to shiver.
"It's just the air conditioning - it's a bit on the cold side."
"Mm hmm. Here, want my coat?"
"No, I'm fine. Let's go and meet Gina."
"Ok," he agrees, and we go back the way we've come.
"Feeling better?" I ask when I see her.
"Yeah, I'm good to go. Did you get what Spike needed?"
"Some of it," I agree. "We may need another trip later."
"We're through," he disagrees. "So, if you ladies don't mind, I'm going to toddle off back home."
We say our goodbyes, and Gina and I head off to look for some special underwear. On the way there, we pass the leather store again, and I drag Gina inside. When we emerge, we're carrying the jacket he admired. I've taken his size from the shirts we bought, and I'm just hoping that it's right for the jacket too.
We walk in silence for a few seconds, but she's biting her lip. I'm just about to ask what's up, when she breaks the silence.
"You know, Buffy, there's something I don't understand."
"What's that?" I ask.
"It's … Look, if I say this wrong, it's going to sound very critical, and I don't mean it that way. Try to remember that."
"Ok," I reply, my curiosity piqued, but unsure what she means.
"Well, tell me, is Spike different than before?"
"Different? In what way?"
"Any way."
"Well, it depends on when you're talking about. I mean, when I first met him, he was all about killing me."
"Well, since you knew he loved you."
I think about it. "There've been some changes, especially when it comes to how he's tried to show me that he loved me, but since the last couple of years? Not so much. It was like he had to get used to human ways of doing things, but inside, he's pretty much the person he always was."
"Then, I'm wondering why things went so wrong between you. It's just, he's so … likeable. I mean, he's intelligent, thoughtful, funny, and it's obvious he worships you…"
"Huh," I reply before I can stop myself.
"What's happened?" she asks, her voice full of artificial tolerance.
"Nothing, it's just, he's been turning on the charm for you, hasn't he?"
"You're jealous!"
"No, well, yes. I suppose I am. I never felt like I had to share him before. He was mine, and no one else wanted him. Now, he's going to have lots of friends, and …"
"And you don't think you can compete?"
I don't say anything, knowing that she's got it right.
"Buffy," she says, stopping and putting a hand on my shoulder so we're facing one another. "He's terrified, and he's scared of being human, but his love for you shines out above everything else. You'll have to get used to sharing him, though. I mean, he's going to need friends too. He's going to have to get a job, find out who he is now. You had a chance to do it, and you have to let him do it too."
"But," I answer. "What will I do if he finds out who he is and realises he doesn't love me any more?"
"If it happens, you'll just have to accept it. But, if you want my opinion - not going to happen. He needs to readjust, but I think he's the type that loves forever."
"I hope so, … It's just, I thought, I'd get him back, and tell him that I loved him, and that'd be it. I didn't think I'd have to … "
"Win him?" she offers.
Yeah, that's it exactly. I took his feelings for granted for so long, and now I can't. It's going to take some readjustment. But, the Slayer never was one to run from a challenge.
We reach our destination, and laugh our way through an hour. Still, I'm able to get some things that, if only I get the chance to model them for him, should make sure Spike won't be looking too closely at anyone else.