A/N: Thanks for all the Xander based feedback, I knew you guys would get it. So, your reward? Spuffiness of course.
Buffy wasn't quite sure exactly when it had started to rain but the English weather was like that – unpredictable. The sky was pitch black but she knew that in a few hours it would begin to lighten, to turn an almost blood red before the lighter pink, azure blue and orange hues began to leak into the sky. Buffy knew this because she had spent many a night just watching the colors change. Sometimes it was because she just couldn't sleep other times it was just because she loved the majestic nature of it all. The sky was like the world's biggest canvas, constantly changing, and subtly shaping the day ahead.
The Slayer pulled up the car – she had reached the as far as she could go in an automobile. Buffy looked through the windscreen up at the sky. There were heavy clouds, gray and unsettling. A good old English storm was brewing.
She climbed out of the car and slammed the door shut after her. Pulling her jacket tighter around herself Buffy let out a gasp of surprise when a cold splash of water found its way down the back of her collar and shirt. The one drip slid all the way down her spine making her shiver.
The rain was heavy and within seconds she was drenched, her hair plastered to her head, white-shirt sodden to her body even with the added protection of a jacket. She started up the dirt path, her heels sinking into the already boggy mud. It was times like this she wished for sunny California.
No, scratch that. Buffy loved storms. Probably because growing up in California she hadn't seen many. They just always made her feel so much more...alive. The cold rain splashes, the illuminating bolts of lightning that, just for a moment, made the night sky feel like day.
Then there was the thunder.
It sounded above her right now. Buffy hurried along the dirt path but stopped just for a moment to look up in time to catch a zigzag of lightning hurtling through the abyss.
Thunder sounded again. It was the sound of giants walking among them. The steady thud of footsteps in the sky.
God, she loved storms.
Buffy sighed, shook her head and carried on. She had to find Spike; the philosophical things could wait. Pushing her way through the overgrown foliage on either side of a small walkway that led to the beach Buffy found she could no longer restrain herself. She started to run. Brambles and twigs scraped at her unguarded face and the Slayer let out a hiss as a bramble sliced a clean line across her cheek. No time to stop. Just a small cut.
She burst onto the beach like an Olympic athlete through the finishing line. Buffy came to a halt. Her heels sunk into the wet sand; her hair was stuck to her face partly obscuring her vision. But she still saw him.
Anywhere, he was hard to miss. But on this deserted beach, he was everything.
Spike stood with his back to her, quite a way away at the very edge of the shoreline. The sea pulled out and pulled in. The tide licked at his feet. He was still shirtless and cut from being thrown through the window. His alabaster skin, now tinted with blue, was marred with angry red cuts and dark swelling.
From this distance Buffy watched him and he looked ethereal. So pale, so desolate, head hung and a tense set to his shoulders. He could have just been a figment. A lonely ghost.
Always alone.
Just like her.
The sea waves were beginning to crash against the rocks, the tide more furious now as it swallowed Spike's ankles. The dark clouds loomed low to the water as if trying to intimidate. The seawater appeared gray in the night. Everything was dark, save for when the lightning flashed.
His skin was her only beacon.
Spike took a small step forward. It was a tiny step, almost imperceptible, but she caught it. Buffy always noticed every small movement he made. She was that aware of him.
He stepped again. Then again.
He started to run into the water.
Buffy did not hesitate she kicked off her boots and ran towards him full Slayer speed. Her feet sunk into the clumped up sand; it got stuck between her toes. She noticed none of this as she called his name out.
The sound was drowned out by the thunder rumbling overhead.
Spike was thigh-deep in water, wading his way through the current.
He was leaving.
Buffy wasn't going to let that happen. She careened into the back of him with all of her weight. They both fell forwards into the water.
It was a shock to the system. The water was freezing cold, it streamed up her nose and into her mouth and the salt choked her. Left her spluttering beneath the surface. She fought to keep her eyes open but could see very little in the murky water. Her arm was wrapped tightly around Spike.
Buffy planted her feet on the ground and stood up. She gasped as she broke the surface, pulling in deep breaths. The stinging sensation in her sinuses did not subside; neither did the burning in her throat.
Spike pushed away from her, turned around to face her. Water was sluicing down his body and face; his skin seemed more translucent. Beyond the blue undertones she could see veins and arteries, lifeless and useless. Water droplets clung to his long eyelashes; his hair was mussed and water-swept.
His eyes were pure blue.
There was no white in them.
Buffy looked into those eyes, those sad looking eyes, and it threw her for a moment. Spike's eyes had always been, figuratively speaking, the windows to his soul. His every emotion would be conveyed in those eyes even if he didn't wish for them to be projected.
But it was still Spike.
"Stay back!" He yelled over the thunder "I can't be near you, I can't!"
He took slow but deliberate steps back in the heavy current of the water. It reached just above his waist but it came up to Buffy's chest. The cold was beginning to seep through her clothes and goosebumps were appearing...everywhere.
None of it affected Spike.
"Don't" Buffy whispered.
She hoped that he knew what she meant by that one word. Don't leave. Don't leave her.
Spike looked at her with those alien eyes but still she saw it in him. The softness, the love, the utter abandonment he felt when looking at her. Buffy wished that she could love as deeply as Spike could. Could give everything she had to one person even though there was always the fear and uncertainty of that person cutting you down.
Like she had done to him so, so many times.
She began to shiver and shake noticeably and it wasn't entirely from the cold. A chill wind tore at her, even penetrating her heavily damp jacket, whipping stray strands of her hair into a frenzy. Chilling her to the bone.
"Let me go, Buffy," Spike whispered "Let me go...you'll be safe, warm, not cold...not cold with me"
Buffy shook her head, mostly to herself. He still didn't get it. He still didn't see.
She couldn't blame him for it.
It was, after all, her fault that it had become so complex and painful for them both. Buffy knew that she had treated Spike badly and she would admit that. But he hadn't been entirely blame free. She didn't just mean the bathroom. She meant the way, back in Sunnydale, when he had tried to drag her into the darkness. It was where he was meant to be. Or so he thought.
Buffy knew different now.
Spike was not a creature of darkness. Not anymore, anyway.
He was filled with light, love, laughter, trust and he was real. He was one of the good guys, one of the white hats who never got to come into the sun.
The Powers still kept trying to pull him into Hell.
Buffy wouldn't let that happen. He wasn't going anywhere this time. This time he was staying firmly at her side, in whatever capacity he chose. She would just be happy for him to be there as a friend if that was all he wanted. She could deal with that. Spike made a good friend; she had come to realize during the last year in Sunnydale.
Had come to realize a lot of things that last year.
"You're the one thing that keeps me warm, Spike" She spoke softly, through quavering lips.
Buffy knew he heard. Even over the thunder, the lightning, the wind and the rain he heard.
He heard.
Spike took another step backwards, shook his head "No. No! I was bad for you, bad and wrong and...I made you hurt. I made you hurt worse than anyone"
Buffy let out a choke of melancholic laughter "Self involved, much?"
"It's better, Buffy, it's better if I..." Spike doubled over, almost kissing the water, he pulled a face of pain "...go. Now. Before this...uhhh..."
Buffy waded towards him, worried. He jumped back put his hand out in an effort to keep her back. Buffy shakes were still evident and all she wanted was to be somewhere safe and warm with Spike, just make him better, make him okay again.
Spike tilted his head; a sudden gentle look passing over his features "Should get inside, luv. Before you catch your death"
The Slayer looked up into his eyes "Death always seems to catch me anyway"
He blinked. A different look passed over his face. A predatory look.
One moment he was Spike, the next he wasn't.
Above them the footsteps continued to advance across the stars.
A/N: I really enjoyed writing this chapter, it just seemed to flow. I guess it just stretched my writing muscles a little more. Always did enjoy a bit of artistic license. The next chapter is gonna get serious so it may take a while to write. But it'll be worth it, promise.
Feedback please.