Chapter Two
It was a small, quiet and very sad funeral. Besides Buffy, Dawn and their friends there were some of Joyce's working acquaintances and her friends gathered around the grave.
All friends but one.
One
sat watching sadly from afar.
Spike
had parked his DeSoto as near as possible to the edge of the
graveyard and glanced through the black-painted windscreen. The
daylight kept him from attending the ceremony but he was damned if he
didn't at least pay his last respects to Joyce.He
would come by the grave and say his goodbye to her as soon as the sun
would've set but for now he simply wanted to be there. He wanted to
be there for Buffy and the Lil'Bit even if they couldn't see him.
Perhaps
they would feel his support somehow.
Spike
searched around for his smokes and put one between his lips. But he
didn't light it. Even for an evil being like him it didn't seem
right to smoke during a service. But the vampire felt nervous and on
edge and the simple feeling of a fag between his lips calmed him down
a bit.
Suddenly
Spike saw the crowd starting to dissolve. It was over. One after the
other left the grave until the Scoobies were the last to remain.
Spike couldn't hear them talking but he saw Willow and Tara take a
crying Dawn in their arms to lead her away.
Spike
knew that Buffy would stay at the grave for who-knows-how-long and he
was determined to join her as soon as the shadows of the trees would
spend enough protection for him. He didn't know if she would
welcome his…yeah, well…his what?
His
support? Comfort?
Spike
wasn't sure about what Buffy would allow him to give her, if his
presence would be allowed at all. But after their last encounter
where she had actually called him a friend (he couldn't stop
wondering about that) he felt the odds to be in his favour. Spike lit
his smoke and inhaled deeply. It was worth a go, wasn't it?
When the sun had finally set the blond vampire opened the door of his car and threw the butt to the ground. Then he climbed out but stopped dead in his tracks. Someone was suddenly approaching Buffy; someone disturbingly familiar.
"Peaches!"
Spike growled and watched helplessly as his grandsire dared to
silently take Buffy's hand in his.
"What
the fuck…!" Spike was stunned beyond words.
He
fell back onto the driver's seat and remained there watching the
hated vampire comfort 'his' slayer.
When
the first shock was over Spike started his car and left the
graveyard, tyres smoking and squealing loudly.
He
thought grimly about the two bottles of whiskey he had fortunately
left untouched last night.
They
would be needed badly.
Later.
First
he needed a huge spot of violence.
Buffy waited till late afternoon the next day before she walked over to Spike's crypt. She had to talk to him, as much as she dreaded to meet him. But even before Joyce's burial Buffy had decided to corner the blond vampire to make sure he wouldn't brag about bagging his third slayer (in a different way than the other two – hopefully).
And
now?
Buffy
had been well aware of Spike's presence at the funeral and she knew
that he had seen her with Angel. She had also noticed his furious
departure at that.
She
couldn't blame him for it, Spike and Angel had a history
that…well…to put it mildly: they didn't like each other.
When
Buffy had remained standing at her mother's grave she had expected
the vampire to join her sooner or later.
The
blond vampire, mind you! She hadn't thought about Angel being there
at all.
But
when it had been her souled ex-lover who had taken her hand, who had
led her to sit under the tree to comfortingly talk to her…well, she
hadn't mind either.
Buffy
had simply been too exhausted, too sad and despaired to care. All she
had wanted there and then had been an arm to hold her, a shoulder to
cry on…someone to cling to.
And
clinging to Angel had triggered something off. She had felt the need
to be near him, to kiss him and who-knows-what-else…the same need
she had felt with Spike the other night.
That
thought had brought her brain back to work immediately.
What
the hell was she doing?
Two nights ago she had been all over Spike, they had been making out and it had felt …well, yeah, it had felt wonderful (she was man enough – or slayer enough – to admit it). And now she was clinging to Angel like there was no tomorrow?
What was the matter with her? Why for god's sake was she so needy?
Angel
and she had stopped kissing the very same moment…but for two
entirely different reasons.
For
Angel the kiss had affected him too much and the return of his
feelings for Buffy had threatened to overwhelm him. Buffy on the
other hand had noticed the lack of feelings that justified such a
kiss.
Well, she still had feelings for Angel, but the romantic 'I-love-him-so-much-I-can't-live-without-him-and-there-will-never-be-someone-else-in-my-entire-life' touch was no longer there. She had known for a while now (otherwise she would've never dated Riley) but experiencing it again in one of her weakest moments…it was disturbing. Kind of sad.
But
it was the truth nevertheless.
Sitting
under the tree Buffy had once again became aware of the fact that she
and Angel didn't belong in each other's worlds anymore.
Angel
was her past.
So
Buffy hadn't been too sad when he had left Sunnydale shortly before
dawn. She had gone home and into her bed glad that he had been there
but also glad that he was on his way again.
Before
she'd fallen asleep Buffy had thought about what Angel had said
earlier:
"You
have people to help you. You don't have to do this alone," had
been his words right before he had left.
Someone
else had said nearly the same to comfort her the other night. Buffy
could still hear Spike's words. 'Whatever you'll have to go
through, you can be sure that you're always gonna have your
friends!'
Two different vampires with one way to help her.
But
Spike had said something else: "And you're always gonna have me,
luv!"
And
then he had silently sat beside her on the porch for the rest of the
night.
These thoughts held Buffy's mind occupied while walking to Spike's crypt. She wasn't sure what to tell him but she had to talk to him nevertheless.
She needed to make sure he'd never tell anyone about their kiss the other night. Although it had felt alright (well, who was she kidding? It had felt more than alright, it had felt wonderful) Buffy knew it wasn't.
Kissing
Spike was not okay! No matter how weak and alone and sad she felt and
no matter how nice and gentle he'd be…she was the Slayer and he
was an evil vampire.
"And
that equals bad, written in capitals! BAD!" Buffy murmured under
her breath and stopped in front of the familiar crypt. Should she
knock? Or barge right in?
She
decided to throw her fist against the wooden door once to announce
her presence and then she walked inside right away.
One
glance around the upper level told Buffy that Spike was not there.
His beloved green armchair was empty and the TV was off.
Buffy
frowned and stepped further into the crypt. She wondered if he could
have gone out already. It was early and the sun was still up outside
but Spike could have used the sewers to get pretty much wherever he
wanted in town.
'Or', she thought suddenly, 'he could be down the lower level.'
Buffy
had been down there only once and that day was none of her favourite
memories. Spike had chained her up to show her…
She
forced her thoughts away from that dreadful event she wished had
never happened and started to descend the small ladder that led
downstairs.
Although
her slayer-sight normally allowed Buffy to see pretty well in the
dark she could spot absolutely nothing but darkness at the end of the
steps.
Therefore
Buffy yelped in shock when she tripped over something on the ground
next to where the ladder ended. She stumbled and fell on her knees.
"Ouch!"
Buffy groaned but went quiet again soon. She had heard another groan
matching hers coming from further inside the dark crypt.
"Spike?" Buffy inquired anxiously, "Spike, are you there?"
Nothing.
But
Buffy was sure she had heard him earlier. She got up from the ground
and when her eyes had adjusted to the darkness she looked around. At
the very far end of the room one small candle burned on a low and
shabby looking table. In the frail light Buffy was able to make out
the end of an old large bed. But other than that she could see
nothing; the light didn't reach anything else around.
'This
one's new!' Buffy thought and stepped cautiously forward towards
the bed.
Suddenly
a low growl rang out.
"Spike?"
Buffy asked worriedly and quickly ran over to the bed. The sound had
come from behind the large bedstead.
When Buffy reached it she was able to look at the ground behind. All she could do was clap a hand over her mouth at the horrible sight and let out a strangled gasp:
"Oh god, Spike!"
TBC
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