Gosh, sometimes this site sucks. When you really want access to it, it's so not granted, of course. That's the reason for the delay! My apologies, yet again. I know they're growing old. I'll try and make it up to you. :)
Been watching S6 tonight and man, it's such a roller-coaster ride. Their relationship. I love it, though. And still it makes me all shaky. And I feel so bad for them. Boy, am I the getting-sucked-into-the-show girl tonight. But ow. Saw "Dead Things" and the heavy beating up of Spike and looked away once because it was really getting to me. I guess it's then you realize just how invested you actually are in these characters. Have to say – pretty neat. Freakishly so. :) Am so not looking forward to "Seeing Red". Or "Entropy" for that matter. Ugh. But they're there for a reason. Alright, the almost-rape is so totally unnecessary, it makes me ANGRY at them. But yeah. Alright, stopping the rant now. Moving onto... YOU:)
Dearest, darlingest thank yous to Brunetttepet (Very, very nice to read all your comments. You're always so detailed. It's always gratifying to know just what you like – or dislike, though I pray you won't have to throw me one of those anytime soon – and thank you for taking the time to do it!) :), Scarlet Ibis (Ah, yes, but being with Riley doesn't – unfortunately – make Buffy unhappy, now does it? I agree with you, but in this instance... And, hell, yeah!) ;), Meshomah (always lovely to welcome a newbie. Like your name. Want to change the one I have and been racking my brain for a cool one. :) Won't steal, promise! Well, I guess that's actually can't. Site rules and all that. :) Laughing here! Over the "had to sleep eventually". So happy you're liking the story! Really wonderful. And that it could hook you like that just makes me fly! Thank you for that!) :)
Wolf116 (hello, stranger:) Heh, heh, blonde. Hah! With the why doesn't she go marry him:) Funny! Funny! "Scratch that last comment." And oh, God, EW, yes. LAUGHING! Can you hear it?) :), wicked-angel-413 (smirking. Wonderful that you like! Here's another...) :), kim (You and I think so much alike, know that? I agree with you, naturally, about your last comment. Very glad that you enjoyed!) :), ReeseAnn (Aw, girl, thank you! Have to smile. Love it when you guys are so optimistic. Muahahahhaa. Just kidding. Or am I? smirk So great that you approve!) :), MaidenRo (Yes, I am sorry this is so belated! And ill. Really?) ;)
Shelly (aaaaand here it is! Thanks, girl.) ;), megan (you pay me one of the biggest compliments I've ever received, I must say. I bow humbly before you! Thank you very much for that amazing paragraph. And about the Riley bit – harsh! I agree, but man, we're one harsh breed, aren't we?) ;), Mel (on both! Hahah! Agree! Hahah. "Funny for some reason". Very happy you liked!) :), SlaYeRGiRLkaL (Great that you thought it funny! Then it did it's job:) Here's a bit more.) :)
Courtney (I'm very happy that you liked parts of the story! It's always more than great to read! Have to say though, I mean, admittedly there are wonderful parts to Spike that should be adored and preferably worshipped – but then there are the demony, evil, darker, uncontrollable parts that can't – I know, it's SO hard – but really shouldn't be overlooked so as to grasp the richness of his character, the interactions, how Buffy would have reason not to just fall for him... It all interplays, and isn't easily done away with, unfortunately for all us Spuffy lovers out there. I completely get what you're saying. Sometimes I just wanna STRANGLE her! But then I take a breath. A long, deep breath. And I see it's all as it should be. Yeah? Thoughts? Comments? Alright, hope to see more of you!) :)
Kendra (So great to read you liked it! Seems the Willow hitting the Vamp with the book part hit a good spot with a lot of you guys! Makes me feel very warm and fuzzy. :) Oh, I know I wouldn't be able to resist for one second in the same vicinity as that vampire. Seriously, Buffy's willpower is to be gaped at.) ;), Spikeaholic101 (So great you're enjoying! I so aim to please! Thank you!) :), w1icked angel (you're last but in no way least. Awesome to read that you're a loser. I like losers. Scratch. I LOVE losers. Especially enslaved ones. ;) Thanks!) :)
To all, thank you! Always.
A.M.L, Annie.
¤
Reaching
¤
I am not going to have gone through everything I did with Angel and have it all end up with me developing some sort of morbid infatuation with another vampire! Those three years I spent with Angel taught me how to love, how deep in love a person can actually be. If I'm gonna turn around and decide I wanna be with a vampire after all, I'll go to him. I'll go straight to L.A. and tell him...
Her train of thought paused there.
She had been walking for two hours. Clearing her head had turned into bringing up every possible reason she could have to never go near Spike again. And now she had finally gotten to the top of the list, bringing out Angel...
What am I doing? she asked herself for the millionth time.
She pictured herself arriving in L.A., the large building hosting Angel Investigations being right there, before her. She walked in through the door and Angel was there, looking up and spotting her he would grow wondering, and she would simply run up to him, hug him tight, be near him...
And then she thought of going there, to then come back to Sunnydale. Entering the crypt, now abandoned. Spike gone.
She tensed, and with that small sensation she knew she couldn't do that.
Angel will always be there, she told herself. He'll always be a part of my life. But...
Everything was so different with Spike. Every touch, every look, every gesture was so different. The man that he was, was so different.
And so, for this night, she made up her mind; hurrying her step as she began to near Revello Drive. There were a few things she'd need.
¤
"Buffy?" Joyce said, coming into her daughter's room.
Buffy turned around, smiling at her mother.
"Hi, mom."
"My, I'm sure seeing a lot of you."
"Not tonight you're not. Can't stay. Just realized I forgot my comfy pj's," Buffy explained. "And what's with the raised eyebrows every time I come home? I thought after Faith we agreed to see more of each other."
"I'm sorry, honey," Joyce laughed. "Of course I love having you around, but you keep showing up at the oddest hours, without telling me."
"Spur of the moment homesickness."
"Sounds more like pj-sickness."
Buffy smiled, nodding.
"Where's Ath and her brother? Is everything alright? I'm sorry that I just sort of dumped her... or them, I guess... on you, but..."
"Don't worry about it. They're both delightful! Cale and I had the longest chat earlier about the different epochs of Egypt and what impacts living by the Nile had on those inhabiting the city and area close to it. Truly intelligent young man."
"Well... that's great," Buffy smiled. "I know we don't usually invite complete strangers into our home."
"They're not strangers anymore," Joyce said simply, smiling again. "Ath made cupcakes today. Delicious! A boy from your old high school came over for coffee, actually. John-something."
"Jonathan?"
"That's it. He took them to the movies. They should be home soon, if you'd like to hang around..."
Buffy's smile appeared again.
"I should get going. I'm sorry."
"Not to worry. I'll see you this weekend?"
"I might have to study... I have so much catching up to do."
"Naturally. So... I'll see you on your next spur of the moment drop-by?"
"You bet."
Buffy grabbed her pillow and walked up to her mom, kissing her on the cheek before exiting. Joyce frowned, but as she heard the front door open and close she didn't get a chance to voice her question.
¤
Ath grabbed another handful of popcorn, swallowing them greedily and smirking at her brother, who looked disgusted. Jonathan picked up on it, too.
"You don't like popcorn?" he asked.
"White, fluffy, tasteless things," Calor muttered. "And still I feel as though I have a razor blade down my throat when I swallow one. I don't like them, no."
"Wow," Jonathan said with a glance at Ath. "Heavy."
She smiled brightly at that and Calor rolled his eyes at her, sinking further into the seat and glaring at the large screen before them. He hadn't thought he would have such a hard time following the events of man – after all, he had been doing just that since the dawn of time – but being down here, up close to it, made it into a confusing blur of events that he couldn't straighten out for himself. Like the concept of movies. What was the use of making movies about happy people when so many people were miserable? Why waste energy and money on creating something into which the unhappy people could flee for but an hour or two, instead of making something more lasting? Something that could make unhappiness a thing of the past? No, humans were a troublesome species. They truly were impossible to understand. They were complex in all their simplicity.
He did like Joyce, though, she seemed as though she could see what he meant when he spoke to her. As apposed to his own sister, who seemed to constantly be smirking at him. He didn't like how he felt lesser than her on this plane. She seemed to have taken to this humanity a lot easier than he, and he felt as though he was always stumbling to keep up.
And then there was the Slayer business.
How was he supposed to stop her from removing the vampire's chip? How was he supposed to prevent the vampire from leaving? How were these two beings supposed to coexist, if they couldn't see the only way for them to do so?
Buffy, Buffy, he thought sadly. This was not how I meant for it to be. It was never supposed to be this hard. I thought I knew you... Thought I knew how you would react. I didn't. I don't.
So how was he to figure out how to fix this?
He sunk further into the seat and closed his eyes.
Moments later he was facing his father, who turned to him with impatience.
"Cale, stay where I put you. If someone were to find your body they would take you for dead."
"Yes, I presume Ath never visits you."
"Your sister does not visit me for selfish reasons."
Calor grew silent, observing the elder. Then he said:
"I cannot do this."
"Chaos is your only alternative. Will you leave the world to a demolition of your making?"
Calor wanted to throw something, but merely found himself opening his eyes again, back in mortal form and sitting next to his sister in a movie theatre showing pictures of what was supposed to be normal life, when it only seemed to him to be a pale reflection of it.
And so how shall I teach you to live, Buffy? To embrace life and all its quarks and happenstances?
¤
Spike splashed some water on his face, rubbing the skin dry with a towel and throwing it aside before he walked up to his bed. He looked it over, then thought it too empty and turned from it, heading upstairs.
'Boom, just like that, you go from hating me to loving me?'
Her words kept ringing in his ears. They sounded true. The situation felt obscure and comical; ironic. He should know better. He should forget the buggering chip and leave now, while he still had a chance at a clear escape.
He smirked at that.
Well passed that point now.
He had felt longing much like this before, but not in one-hundred-and-twenty years had it scorched him from every possible angle. It was so wrong, and still felt so right. A beacon in a much too dark night. A ray of sunshine in a shadowed forest. It would end up leading him astray, he knew that. It would end with him standing in light and burning for it.
But what a way to go.
He sat down on the loveseat, sliding down and closing his eyes. He should go get food. The butcher would close in an hour and then he'd be left stranded. But he didn't feel like moving.
The door opened and he furrowed his brow, not bothering to turn around as he could scent soft musk. A smile slowly formed on his mouth as he heard her feet approaching the place he resided. Then a pillow landed on the spot next to him, right before she walked around the couch and had a seat. He turned his head to her, questioning.
"Alright," she said, "I'm intrigued." His eyebrows rose. "I'm not saying... anything except I'd like to... stay here. Tonight. No smoochies, no feelys, no tries at any of that stuff whatsoever or I'm out the door."
He kept on eyeing her, his gaze sliding down her form and a glitter appearing in them at what she was wearing. She had changed on the way, into her retrieved, very un-sexy set of pajamas. He thought they might've worked as a distraction from any thought of the night they had shared yesterday, but for the fact of how he wanted to get her out of them; thinking she was better than that. She grabbed the pillow, getting it out from under her and throwing it at him as she got to her feet.
"Do you have any of the water left?" she asked, walking up to the small fridge.
He put the pillow aside.
"No," he replied simply.
"Figures," she muttered, opening the door and looking inside.
Choosing to pour herself a glass of juice she came back up to him. Sitting down she took a sip, then met his eyes, which were observing her keenly.
"Remember when I was fifteen and liked having you stare at me?" she asked, a smile on his lips. "Remember when I grew out of it?" she added, the smile broadening. "I should've bought some art," she sighed. "The walls are so bare. And where are the rugs? Don't tell me you weren't happy with them, 'cause I know..."
"They're downstairs," he interrupted.
"Oh."
They grew silent, her gaze taking him in as he did her.
"What's your happiest memory?" she asked.
"What's yours?"
"No, tell me."
He cocked his head to the side, then smiled.
"Don't think it's happened yet," he said.
She smiled back, then glanced away, down at her hands, the smile pulling back.
"Mine was with Angel," she murmured, gaze back in his and his face quickly lost any emotion, apart from growing agitation.
"So was Dru's," he shot bitterly.
"Is that how it's gonna be?" Buffy asked. "I'm gonna be compared to her...?"
"Am I gonna be compared to him?" he bit off. "I'm nothing like him, so if I am to be compared, you'd do best at buggering off, 'cause there's nothing here for you."
"Why do you guys hate each other so much?"
"He's a smug, intolerant, know-it-all; who bosses everybody around and makes their life a living hell!" Spike exclaimed.
"No, that's Angelus."
"And what's with that? Having to separate between demon and soul, having to step back and go – oh, yeah, I bloody did this when I couldn't see straight 'cause I was too much of a blockhead to get that my actions might come back to bite me on the ass! Sodding poof, he is. And now he's all broody and black-eyed and sad. Poor Angel has a bad demon inside and now he has to deal with it. Unbelievable what credits the wanker gets after what I've seen him do."
He stopped at that, biting his tongue and closing his eyes briefly at her stricken expression.
"I'm... sorry," he said slowly, meeting her gaze again.
"Don't be. Angel said something to me that I think is true – that it varies who you become after you get your soul back. And it's different from vampire to vampire what sort of vampire you are. Some demons are strong, taking over completely; even when the memories of the human they're in linger they choose not to notice them. They don't want them. If a demon's willing to remember..."
Spike waited for her to finish as she trailed off.
"If I'm willing to remember...?" he said helpfully, smiling a small smile.
"Then you can tell me about what kind of man you were," she filled in, avoiding the actual base of her thought.
"William is uninteresting, inadequate and, in general, he's boring."
She raised her eyebrows.
"I want to know where you come from. And you just said you shouldn't have to separate between demon and soul."
"I didn't bloody well mean..."
"It's like the first year of a baby's life. It determines the rest of the life of the baby, right? So at your age, your first years as a human can count as the baby-phase. And... I want details. As for the uninteresting, inadequate and boring?" She smiled softly at that and he felt something click inside him, almost growing sheepish at the embarrassment he was going to suffer telling her of his mortal years. "Let me be the judge of that," she now filled in her former sentence, and he grumbled in dislike as well as defeat.
"Is this why you came here, Slayer? Hear the story of my existence?"
"And then some," she replied, making herself a bit more comfortable in anticipation for him to begin.
"There's not much to tell... I was born in a small town, my parents moved to London when I was two, my father worked and my mother stayed home with me... I was quiet... closed off... Didn't have many friends, always wanted them. I painted, I wrote, I went to school and about my business... I was pathetic." He shuddered, deep in the retelling and barely aware of her anymore, she thought. "I had a close friend in a girl named Sarah. We grew up together. She was the one who introduced me to Cecily... God, I was a fool for that girl." He smirked suddenly, then sighed. "At least it brought me to Dru. She saved me, you know? Got me the hell away from there. The stuffy British drawing rooms where men smoked their cigars and women coquettishly did as their husbands instructed. To think I wanted to be part of that whole bleeding farce! Dru made me see who I really was. Got me to realize my potential. With her I was... unstoppable. She lent me her power."
"Her madness," Buffy broke in and Spike focused his gaze in hers.
"They were good times."
"Compared to now?" she asked.
"Now? Now's very different, isn't it?"
"You wreaked havoc among the European countries for almost half a century. Built up quite the reputation. Killed two slayers. And I'm supposed to sit here and believe that you could leave all that behind?"
"I left Dru behind, didn't I?"
"She left you for a Fungus demon."
"And why was it that Angel left you again?"
She glared at him, getting to her feet and facing him again just as he stood as well.
"We're so good at this," she muttered.
"Aren't we, though?" he said.
"I just feel like this is all... make-believe. You look back over all the damage you've done and what do you feel? Not a biting on the ass, that's for sure. There's not even a nip!"
"Does it matter? In the big picture? If I swore to you I'm done with killing. If I'd give it up..."
"You don't know what you're saying," she shook her head.
"If I'd give it up?" he repeated, taking a step forward, making her take one back.
"How can I trust you?" she asked. "After everything you've done? To me, to the ones I love? How can I bring you into the middle of that group and say 'Oh, and by the way...'?"
"'By the way' what?"
She rested her eyes in his for a long moment, then shook her head a little.
"I don't know," she said.
Another few moments of silence and then he asked:
"Have you eaten? You hungry?"
She felt relief at the change of subject, raising one shoulder in a shrug, though the expression on her face showed him that she could definitively eat.
"I'll go. Make yourself comfortable," he said, grabbing his duster as he headed up to the door. "What're you in the mood for?"
She smirked, then replied:
"Wings."
¤
She was watching TV when he got back. She turned her head to him with a slight smile on. He seemed to grow tentative at the sight of it, bringing the bucket of wings to her and she looked up at him as she reached up to receive it. He held her gaze for another second, then turned and walked into the kitchen area. Getting the fresh blood he had bought out of its bag, filling up the stash he kept and closing the fridge door. He opened the plastic jar and vamped out as he put the edge of it to his lips, devouring his supper quickly.
Once he was done he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking over where she was sitting, back to him. He threw the jar in the makeshift trash-bin and approached her, shaking off his vampire exterior before reclaiming his previous seat. She didn't look at him, merely held out a hand holding one of the pieces of chicken.
He grabbed it.
"What're we watching?" he asked.
An hour later she giggled at one of the jokes in Who's Line Is It Anyway? For twenty minutes he had barely been watching the show, but he smiled as she smiled. She turned her head to him, the amusement still in place, though it smoothed as she locked her gaze with his.
"You don't like this show?" she wondered.
"Sure I do," he replied.
"We can watch something else."
"'S fine."
She faced the screen again, bringing her legs up, folding them to the right, her toes touching his hand and she jerked them away. For a second he felt a sting, and then he heard her swallow hard and realized why she'd done the movement. It wasn't like her, to be this afraid of herself. Did he really have such power over her? For a second the glimmer of that thought seemed ludicrous. Then he casually moved his hand, letting his fingers scrape the sensitive skin of her foot and she drew a slight breath, growing stiff as a board.
Then she moved her hand, slid it into his and removed his touch.
He smirked. She glanced at him, pulling her hand back, and then fastened her gaze back at the TV, successfully keeping down a smile.
"So," she said, rising and walking up to the machine, turning it off. "Wanna play cards?"
"You think I'm ever gonna play cards with you after what you did to me last time?"
She pouted adorably, but he wouldn't let that get to him. He wasn't entirely out of it yet. He had his pride.
"It'll give you a chance to win your rings back," she tried and he shook his head. "Don't be boring!"
His eyes widened at that.
¤
"Read 'em... and weep," she said, placing the cards on the coffee table between them.
He growled, throwing his cards down. She smiled widely.
"This is fun. Isn't this fun?" she asked, reaching over to take her prize lying in front of him.
He grabbed her wrist in a tight grip, his eyes hard as steel. She met them without wavering, then pulled free. Holding her hand out instead. He gritted his teeth, picking the lighter up and placing it in her palm. She held it up, smiling again.
"It's so rewarding, beating you at your own game."
"Shut up," he grumbled, getting to his feet.
"Why is this thing so important to you anyway?"
"I got it fifteen years ago..."
"Got it?"
"I stole it fifteen years ago and it's been with me ever since! Wanna know where I got the coat from?" he asked, the aggravation racing on deadly paths inside him.
"Where?" she smirked.
"From the second slayer whose neck I snapped," he nearly growled.
Her merriment faded to nothing, and then her eyes turned cold as she stood.
He regretted it the moment the words went out of his mouth. Even more when she walked passed him and headed for the door.
"Buffy..."
"If I stay, I'll kill you."
He went after her, grabbing her wrist and she spun around, hitting him hard on the jaw. She had tears in her eyes; he could nearly touch the fury on her. She hit him again, and again, changing her fist for her foot and kicking him in the chest, making him lose his grasp and having him stumble backwards.
"Don't... touch me," she said, her tears running over. "I don't wanna know you. I don't wanna know what you've done. It's so easy to pretend all that stuff away, say it doesn't matter now... But it's who you are!"
She turned at that, walking up to the door and disappearing through it.
He stared at the spot she had been in for the longest time.
That's it? You're not gonna fight? a voice inside asked.
Who am I supposed to fight? he asked back. Her?
¤
She was crying hard. It felt like it had been building all this time and finally she got to let it all out. She stumbled into a clearing and sunk down on the ground. She was so angry. She was so angry with him, with herself, with the feelings clawing inside her. With the confusion and the unwillingness to come to a final decision.
She wanted him gone, but at the thought another part of her trembled with sorrow and a fresh batch of tears appeared in her eyes. Goddammit! It was her stupid younger version that had gone and seen things in him that weren't there! And even if they were, they were only there for moments at a time. He was what he was. Maybe she shouldn't even want to change him. Stop killing – pah! She had actually believed him. When she looked into his eyes she had seen true sincerity in them, and she had felt like it was possible.
She didn't want to acknowledge how much admitting that he was nothing but a common fiend hurt her. And she hated him for it.
She got to her feet, stumbling through the trees and then coming out on a well-known road, following it to her house. She chose the back entrance, feeling her disheveled appearance might make her mother pose a few unwelcome questions. She just wanted to sleep. Forget all about Spike and this nightmare. It was a disturbed attraction on her part, nothing more. Could never be anything else than that.
She halted as her gaze met Ath's, seated on the porch by the kitchen door. Ath furrowed her brow quizzically. Buffy dried her cheeks, but the tears wouldn't stop coming and she walked up to the porch steps, sinking down beside the other girl.
"Buffy, what's the matter?"
Buffy looked at her, then a sob rose out of her throat and she buried her face in her hands.
"It's too terrible," she said.
"No, really... Tell me," Ath encouraged, reaching out a hand and softly stroking Buffy's back. "It's okay. Tell me everything."
"There's this guy," Buffy began, sniffling. "And he can be really... really great. He can be considerate and even... tender... But then he's conniving and dishonest and I know I can't trust him. He can be dangerous. I mean really dangerous. And I can't help but feel like maybe somewhere in all that – is him. Not William, not Spike... just him. And I tried to reach him tonight but I did such a poor job at it and then he blew up and then I blew up and we started fighting like we always do... What kind of relationship can we have, anyway, when every other sentence is a scream of anger?"
She drew a breath, shaking her head.
Ath looked at her, then said:
"Spike sounds as though he might not have the clearest view of himself... And if he doesn't know himself, then how can you know him?"
"Well, he thinks he has a clear view of himself so he won't listen to anything I say. He's such an idiot! Why would I wanna be with such an idiot?"
"Yes, why would you? Shouldn't you be with someone a little less... out there? Someone who knows exactly who they are and where they're going? Someone who will always love you?"
"I have someone like that," Buffy mumbled, beginning to feel drowsy from the slow movements of Ath's hand. "He's a nice guy. A wonderful guy! I can see myself with him."
"Then maybe it's time you go to him, instead of trying to help this Spike out with whatever issues he needs resolving? That isn't your job, is it? If he wants them resolved he needs to be the one to do it."
"He should. He should do it himself," Buffy agreed. "It's not in the job description to hang around his crypt all night and listen to him vent."
"That's right."
"That is so totally right!"
"Good. Now, go to bed."
"Okay."
As the Slayer disappeared upstairs, Ath wrapped her arms around her knees, turning her eyes to the stars up above and smiling a little. She had enjoyed the evening. There was a new emotion being born within her, and she liked the process. It was fascinating and exhilarating. And scary, she supposed. Jonathan was such a special character. She wondered if it had been by chance that he had found her.
Her mind drifted to Buffy.
It'll get better now, she thought.
"Well?" Calor asked, coming out onto the porch.
"Half of the work is done," Ath said.
"You didn't tamper with anything, did you?"
"Of course not!" she replied, offended. "I am one who learns from your mistakes. It'll be entirely her decision. I just helped with the sorting out of all those emotions fluttering around inside her. Humans are so messy."
"Yes, they are, aren't they? Jonathan in particular. I caught so many different vibes from him tonight I thought I was going to throw up."
Ath merely smirked.
"He was a bit nervous," she agreed. "But it was... kinda cute."
"You can't get mixed up with a mortal," Calor said.
"So you've told me, five times!" she exclaimed. "I'm only three seconds younger than you, thank you very much, I know the laws of our nature just as well as you do."
"But you really can't get mixed up with this mortal. It might change..."
"I know," she said, rising and walking passed him inside.
"Messy is the word," he sighed, looking skyward meaningfully before following in her footsteps.
¤
Buffy entered her bedroom, closing the door silently behind her and turning around to see her pillow on her bed. She hadn't even realized she forgot it. But now it was here.
"Oh," she grumbled, walking up to it. "Why'd he have to do that?"
Her eyesight was blurry, she was so tired; and then she fell on the bed, asleep the next instant.