Tonight
A/N: What I say about London may be slightly off- I've got Toronto's subway maps and street plan in my head constantly, I've only been to London once, this past May, I adore the city and it is the perfect setting I just... know nothing about it ( (this is a smiley face if it comes out as something else on ff). Bear with me. The ridiculous amounts of dialogue are just sort've there. They came out and I couldn't stop them. The scene with Xander and Spike didn't work in Spike's POV, which is why it isn't in it.
"I am going to kill her very shortly," Dawn announced, after leaving Buffy's room, where the former was throwing things at the wall quite violently. "And then accuse her of being a hypocrite. And phone Giles at tell him." Andrew and Dina, who were playing cards on the kitchen table for food looked up at Dawn.
"Hypocrite, why? Thought she was in love with a dead guy," Dina said, Dina was the cause of Buffy's current fit, having just confessed herself to be falling for a vampire, not a vampire with a soul, and not a vampire with any particular feelings for her. "Or is this going to be about Angel again, because I thought we weren't supposed to talk about that..." Dina trailed off, after one disastrous phone call which had ended in the phone being thrown at a guilty-looking Andrew's head and Buffy storming off, Angel hadn't been discussed in the house.
"Well, technically speaking, Spike was dead for a long time before he died," Dawn said and just as Dina was about to open her mouth to protest, "but the government put a chip in his head, so he couldn't hurt anything, he was head over heels in love with Buffy and had a soul- well, he didn't have a soul when they were together, but he had a soul for a year or so before he died."
"Buffy fell in love with a soulless vampire?" Dina said after a pause during which she dropped her cards on the table, and Andrew almost cried as he saw how truly terrible her hand had been.
"He liked food," Dawn offered, "and I think it was more a fuck-buddy thing when he didn't have the soul. They can love without them though, but don't take that the wrong way, please?"
"He liked food, they had done it sans-commitment and this makes crying over him every night alright?" Dina said, with a typical ignorance of anyone's feelings, including Dawn and Andrew's, both of whom had liked Spike.
"Spike loved her," Andrew objected, "and helped her and he took care of Dawn when Buffy was busy being dead."
"I just got a lecture on how something without a soul can't love," Dina pointed out, taking a sip of the glass of Sprite in front of her.
"She's just saying that for the sake of saying it, she'd never come between you if you did get together with him," Dawn said, "Buffy would understand why not to, if anyone would."
"Ooh, do tell," Dina said sarcastically.
"I will, as soon as I finish killing Dawn," Buffy said from the doorway between the kitchen and her bedroom, where she'd appeared at some point during the conversation, ignored by the three. "You weren't supposed to tell her about Spike and you know that. Dating mass murderers isn't exactly what I want on my resume at the moment." She nodded at Dina, "As to your vamp, you prove that he's willing to die for you, I accept it. You decide to get together, I don't interfere, he breaks your heart, and I let you stake him, understood?" Dina nodded, "oh, and if he gets a soul, I let him live in the basement- unless of course a Big Bad puts a trigger on his brain, in which case he gets chained to something."
"Umm..." Dina offered intelligently.
"History of Spike in a nutshell," Dawn explains, "it's a long, twisted story. It involves singing and a robot."
"A robot?" Andrew said faintly.
"You remember the Buffy-bot, don't you?" Buffy said, before making her way over to the stove. She was about to take a pan from the cupboard above it to fry the quesadillas she'd been planning on making for dinner, when the fact that she was talking about Spike without crying hit her, which was when she dropped the pan and ran into her bedroom.
"Not really, no," he answered, against his instincts, this would, inevitably, lead to her making a drunken, clumsy, come-on, which he would have to refuse, causing as little pain as possible, the storm out of the room to think about Buffy and possibly shed a few (manly) tears.
"Why not?" she asked him, "strong but silent is bloody boring," he couldn't help but chuckle at that one, into his whiskey, and not looking up at her.
"True, that, but I'm not in the mood to talk," he replied.
"Love done you wrong?" she asked, teasingly, "you look like the type who wouldn't get hit that hard." Spike laughed out loud and turned to look at her, reasonably pretty, innocent-looking, with loads of white-blond hair and sparkling grey eyes. Definitely not his type- too innocent, and too cheerful. The kind of girl Buffy had been when he'd first met her. And there she was again.
"Looks can be deceiving," he replied, quickly taking a last sip of the liquid before standing up, "I've got to go. Are you staying here?" He asked, wondering which cover story to use to make sure she never came around again.
"No, actually, just here because I heard about the great music," she joked, all they played were schmaltzy love songs, which drove Spike insane, "my friend is, but they say they haven't got any rooms. Willing to share?"
'Abso-bloody-lutely not, but maybe if you're still here in the morning I could introduce you to my kids?" He offered, realizing that after the previous conversation the 'wife' excuse wasn't going to work out all that well.
"Not scared of kids, got a couple of my own," she replied cheerfully, "'sides, yours don't exist- circles under your eyes aren't big enough." He chuckled again.
"Caught me there, but the answer's a big fat no," he said, "emotional only for me- and only one person's emotions." She laughed this time.
"And those aren't forthcoming?"
"She's seeing her ex- who happens to be my ex's si- father, it's all very complicated," he explained cheerfully. Kids didn't scare her- the truth would.
"She dated- dates, your ex's father?" She asked, apparently shocked.
"Long time- likes older men, I think. Her uncle came and told me, which is why I'm here," he replied, "the uncle never liked me much- he and her last boyfriend actually tried to kill me once, it's a long story." He grinned, the last one had gotten to her.
"Dance with me?" She asked, suddenly, "the next song might not be so bad," she grinned, the cheesy nineties pop hit that was playing was winding down. Against his better judgment, Spike nodded. He regretted it the instant they got on the dance floor.
Wind Beneath My Wings was playing.
The slightly pudgy dark haired man at the counter stared as Spike rushed out of the room- if he hadn't known better, he would have though the vampire had been wiping tears from his eyes. The duster snapped as he turned the corner to the stairs, and Xander got up to follow him.
Giles had fallen asleep when Xander had gone to visit him before going to see Buffy for a few days. He had fallen asleep with his Watcher records open and a slightly drunk Xander had flipped through them. Xander had found the entry about Spike, and, at the time, had thought it a good thing. Buffy would do better with a normal partner in life- he had always believed that. That had been before he'd seen Buffy for the first time since Sunnydale. Well, he corrected mentally, he had seen the person Buffy used to inhabit- Buffy was on permanent mental vacation.
It had taken almost three months for him to accept why Buffy was ruined and what Giles had done and it had become his project. He had needed something to do after... after Anya. And with a grim acceptance of the fact that he would never be truly happy again- he'd set out to make Buffy happy. It had taken another month after he had bribed Willow to hack into guest registries in hotels in the area he remembered Giles mentioning for him to get to England and into this bar.
He'd been significantly discouraged when the blonde had made a move on Spike, but then had heard him trying to shrug her off, which hadn't worked, his temper had flared when he accepted the dance- followed by absolute euphoria when Spike ran out of the room at the opening cords of what could have been his wedding song. That he definitely understood.
He got out of his chair and followed Spike up the stairs, but, he thought, with a far lesser deal of snapping leather clothing. Spike had always been one for the dramatics. And he called Xander a pansy. Humph.
Xander didn't bother knocking on Spike's door, just opened it and walked into the small room.
"Hovel-like," he commented, noting the black clothes strewn over the floor and the unmade bed, Spike was sitting in the windowsill, knees brought up to his chest, head bent down to rest on them. Spike didn't even bother turning around.
"Look, don't bother with it, alright? I don't want food, I don't want you to make my bloody bed- if you people would just give me sodding peace I might tip you once in a while," Spike told Xander, or, more accurately, his knees.
"Err, right?" Xander said, more of a question than anything else, "and I suppose it wouldn't interest you at all that Angel's happily ensconced in LA?"
"Evil, but I don't prey on other vamp's girls," he replied, turning his head slightly to look up at Xander, then apparently deciding it wasn't worth it and returning to his previous position.
"And has been since Sunnydale," Xander added, "and hasn't been speaking to Buffy lately because he suggested they try getting back together because you had never been good enough for her and also happened to be dead and then Buffy threw the phone at Andrew, who told him that he shouldn't interfere in Buffy's life? Because, I mean, we're talking about Andrew seeing sense here..." Spike didn't move, Xander decided he was the biggest idiot ever to walk the planet. "Do you hear me? Buffy and Angel aren't together- Giles was just trying to protect her." Spike made a low sound in his throat, but didn't say any actual words. "So, are you over her? I mean, does the thought of Buffy all alone, crying her eyes out every night because she doesn't know that you're back, not touch even the faintest bit of your undead heart? Because, if it doesn't, I'll just tell you that she and Andrew have started a torrid affair and be on my way." Spike turned to look at him, blue eyes cold.
"Look, I know 'Watch the Soul-Equipped Vamp Cry' is a really fun game- but I think you're going a bit far with it," Spike snapped, "besides- who says I even care if Peaches and the Slayer are back together?"
"You just left the room because they were playing Wind Beneath My Wings, that should have been your first dance. Believe me, I know the look," Xander said, "or is it just a weird obsession with bad love songs that Buffy plays sometimes late at night, and hums when she's happy?"
"She hums random notes when she's happy- songs when she's pretending," Spike corrected, cringing the second the words left his mouth.
"And these are the words of a man who hasn't spent seven months in a hotel room thinking about Buffy," Xander said cheerfully. "Look, I was in the same boat once- alright, I haven't screwed Buffy on top of a table- but I was in a boat kind of close to yours. And if I could do it all over again- which I really wish I could- I'd go and screw Buffy senseless right now, except, you know, not Buffy, 'cause I seriously doubt that either of you'd be so happy about that, so Anya. Even if she were dating Angel- which no one is- or having a torrid affair with Andrew- which is just wrong," Xander finished.
"Torrid affairs with Andrew, you on a table with Buffy or Buffy dating Tall Dark and Forehead?" Spike asked sarcastically. Internally trying to process the onslaught of information (and nasty images- including one of Xander and Andrew mid-torridness) that had just been given to him.
"All of the above," Xander replied, "so, you going to do anything about, err, anything?"
"Yes, for I can make decisions involving someone I thought I'd lost to a man who makes his hair stick straight up and screwing the girl I love senseless whilst having a rather strange image of you and Andrew on a coffee table instantaneously," Spike rolled his eyes.
"You know, you may be the Big Bad and all... but I didn't need to think about Andrew naked... ever," Xander said, closing his eyes and trying to think of anything but Andrew naked. "So, will you go home?"
"Sorry 'bout that- you're the one who said his name and 'torrid affair' in the same sentence. How's Niblet been doing?" Spike asked, partially because he wanted to know, partially because he needed the time to think about what Xander had just told him.
"Dawn? Fantastic- all things considered, she and Buffy's Slayer- you know about the Watcher thing?" Spike gave a grunt of assent, "well, she and Buffy's Slayer get along great, and Dawn's turning into mini-you with all the sarcasm, she's had a boyfriend or two since they came to England, but no one serious," Xander grinned as Spike whirled around at the word 'boyfriend'. "All nice enough- the longest one- Gerald, I think- left because Dawn wouldn't sleep with him," Spike let out a relieved breath. "Buffy went on exactly one date," he added, "with Andrew. It was supposed to be a get-over-Spike-and-meet-someone-nice-at-a-bar thing, it turned into a go-to-a-bar-and-cry-in-the-washroom-over-Spike thing. We can't even mention you in everyday conversation." Spike snorted.
"So, how'd you figure what Rupe did?" He switched the topic again- the very thought of Buffy crying was tearing him apart, which, he suspected, Xander had known it would.
"Got drunk and flicked through the Watcher notes, then I saw Buffy," he replied, "easier to accept when you have to deal with that house, and her for a week or two first," Xander shook his head sadly. "She's not like Buffy anymore though- she cries when we mention you, gets angry if the word 'Angel' even comes into a conversation and kills things."
"Sounds like the old Slayer if you just reverse Peaches and me," Spike snapped, "look- she'd be better off with something with a pulse- just give her time." Xander laughed out loud.
"This is nothing like what happened with Angel- with him, she kept up the Buffy-ness, now, she's the Buffy-bot, but without the sex drive," he smiled faintly, the thought of Buffy's current state taking most of the humor out of his tone.
"If you could have Demon-Girl back, would you really go for it?" Spike asked suddenly. Xander flinched at the personal question- Spike may have been his 'closest thing to a male friend' but they did killing each other, or threatening to (then both cowering behind Buffy, though neither cared to admit that), not feelings.
"'Course." Xander said quickly, "in a second- if not less. Well, maybe in about a day," his voice faltered, but he pressed on, "I'd be scared to hurt her, again. Scared that I didn't deserve her. But, then I'd realize that I made her happy the first time 'round- or that I could make her happy now."
"What if you thought it could only end badly- you were too different? Or maybe too alike?" Spike asked, wondering briefly why he was confiding in the Whelp, and finally laying it down to shock at the thought of an available Buffy pining over him, rather than the other way around.
"I'd go back, no matter what. If I could make he happy for just an instant- that would be enough for me," Xander grinned, "this isn't like us."
"No, t'snot" Spike agreed, "won't tell anyone if you don't."
"You'll tell Dawn," Xander said, "or you would if you went back. Will you go back? They miss you. They both love you."
"How's Buffy been doing with taking care of Lil' Bit?" Spike asked, suddenly hungry to hear more details of Buffy's life.
"Better than she was- Dawn still complains that they don't spend enough time together, but she's seventeen now- she's beginning to get Buffy a lot more. Last I talked to her about Buffy they were just letting her heal or something like that," Xander said, "Dawn wonders if you're really dead sometimes, she's still a bit of a romantic, she thinks Buffy would just know and move on if you were."
"Been dead a long, long time- think Buffy knows at this point," Spike snorted.
"Fine then, she figured if you were the dust we were vacuuming out of the curtains, Buffy would know," Xander rolled his eyes, "I think it's romantic nonsense."
"I agree," Spike said, "but then, in Buffy-land, nonsense has a tendency to make sense suddenly, listen to Bit. Buffy would get over me if she actually thought I wasn't coming back- she's strong like that." He grinned faintly.
"So, you're going back?" Xander said after a few moments of trying to figure out the Spike-talk and double entendres in the sentences.
"Yeah, yeah, I think I am," Spike said, making his decisions immediately, realizing that the jumble of words that had just come out of his mouth when he was talking just to make noise, had been right. "Where exactly am I going back too? All Giles told me was England, covering all his bases I suppose," Spike snorted dismissively.
"London, Kensington, nice district. Big enough house. Close to Harvey Nicks," Xander choruses what Buffy told him when she bought the house.
"Dru and I lived around there for a bit once, lots of pretty side streets, close to the V&A?" Spike asked, trying to pinpoint the exact area in his hometown- he hadn't been back for years before this, and in the past seven months he'd left the hotel a grand total of two times, but, like any city dweller, the subway map and streets were tattooed across the back of his eyelids and had been since birth. "What tube stop does she use?" It seemed the sort of thing Xander would know.
"Yeah, Gloucester Road, I think," Xander replied.
"Bloody Hell- that's ten minutes from here!" Spike exclaimed, the inn was practically on top of Piccadilly Circus station- prime real estate.
"This is true," Xander observed, almost sarcastically. Things, he could tell, were going to go back to normal between he and Spike. "What, exactly, are you waiting for anyway?" He asked Spike, who had remained in the windowsill for the entire conversation, and was now leaning back against the board behind his head.
"Honestly?" Spike asked, Xander rolled his eyes and nodded, "I'm waiting to wake up. Do you have any clue how many times I've dreamed that she and Peaches weren't together? How many times I've dreamed that she actually did love me?"
"Which, by the way, she does. I predict some good, old-fashioned, groveling to come," Xander grinned, "I'm hoping I can watch."
"I will not grovel," Spike spat out, realizing even as he said it that if he ever hoped to be back in Buffy's good graces, he was going to have to do at least a bit of crawling.
"Trust me, you'll be apologizing for years- or minutes, at least," Xander said, "and two consecutive days will never go by without her reminding you. I know Buffy."
"So do I, mate, and, I would like to point out that I have a much closer view of my relationship with Buffy than you do," Spike said with a snort.
"Homicidal rage, mindless sex, rambling conversations about death, attempted rape, and a huge splash of denial?" Xander suggested, "that about sum it up?"
"You forgot essentially being Dawn's parents for two years, trust, a soul, death, safety and, more importantly, you missed love. You definitely missed love," Spike responded, ticking them off on his fingers. "And Xander?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
"Hello," she said cheerily, glad to get an excuse to stop working for a few minutes.
"Hey, Dawnster, how's it going?" Xander's voice came over the line.
"Good, boring, stupid English homework," Dawn replied, "where are you?"
"Piccadilly Circus," he answered.
"You're not even supposed to be in the country until tomorrow!" Dawn said, excited, she and Xander had always gotten along well, and she was excited to see him- he had been living in Vegas of all places, and even though he phoned almost every other day, she knew that everyone missed him.
"I had something to do- wasn't sure how long it was going to take, but it didn't go on as long as I thought it would, so I figured you four wouldn't mind if I showed up a day early. Actually, that's what I want to talk to you about, I know you're giving me the guest bedroom- but is there any chance I could bring someone else along, do you guys have room?"
"I'll ask Bu-" Dawn began, but Xander cut her off.
"Don't ask Buffy- just guess, do you have an extra bed?" Xander said quickly, Dawn heard someone with a British accent mumbling something dismissive in the background before she replied.
"Yeah- our couch is your couch. Or the couch of whoever you're bringing with you," Dawn responded. She figured Xander had probably dredged up Riley or brought along Giles, maybe. Though the thought of Giles sleeping on a couch made her giggle. He had been living in the country, very firmly retired since Sunnydale, and even though he was on the same continent, they rarely saw him. And, for some reason, he hardly ever phoned any more- he said it was just that Buffy didn't need him, Dawn had always suspected it was something more. Last time he had been in London, six months ago, he had seemed almost, Dawn paused to think of the word, guilty.
She returned to the English homework but couldn't concentrate at all, something was flitting around in the back of her mind. Something about the phone call had caught her subconscious's attention, and it wasn't feeling inclined to share anything with her. She closed her notebook with an unsatisfying slam of paper against paper, and moved to knock on Buffy's bedroom door.
"Buff?" She asked when there was no sign of movement in the room after a few moments.
"Dawnie I'm... I'm changing, I'll be out in a minute," Buffy said weakly, clearly still in tears, Dawn thought it was probably a good thing that she was pretending not to have been crying.
"Like anyone believes that," Dawn snorted, "Xander's in the country, he's getting here tonight- in like ten minutes, actually. He's at Piccadilly."
"He's where?" Buffy exclaimed, throwing open the windows to reveal mussed up hair, mascara smudged eyes and a tear-streaked face. "Bloody fucking- I didn't say that by the way- hell!"
"Do you realize what the look on Spike's face will be the first time he hears you use the word 'bloody' as an expletive?" Dawn asked suddenly. Even as the future tense came out of her mouth, she realized what had been nagging at her- that dismissive British noise- it had been Spike, she was sure of it.
"Insensitive much?" Andrew said, having walked into the kitchen just in time to hear the end of the conversation.
"Err, right, sorry Buffy... it just came out of my mouth," Dawn said, "you should shower, you look dead."
"Thank you, Dawn, for the inspiring pep-talk," Buffy sighed, before closing the door in her sister's face, it was quickly followed by the sound of her shower being turned on.