Whoa, guys! Wow, such amazing responses! And no amazing response from me! I swear to you, it was completely out of my hands – literally! My frickin' Windows BROKE DOWN! So I had to go to this guy who helped me retrieve my entire hard drive. I had most of it saved, but... Phew. What a thriller. I thought I'd lose my mind, seriously. Yeah, so, I'm very sorry that this is late, but I've had limited access to the computer to write. I AM making it up to you this time, though. I'm posting two chapters at once. Hope you like that:)
Thank you so much to Kendra (I was so happy to read all your wonderful comments! I'm glad you enjoyed it!) :), w1cked angel (Agree. :) lol Oh, you haven't... died, have you? worried) ;), kim (heh, heh. Very nice to read you're getting stuff done! I'm soooo bad at getting out there to read, I just haven't got the hours in the days, which sounds selfish and terrible, but it's the way it is. PLEASE, let me know when the story's finished and I swear to you, I WILL read it!) :), Nessie (heheh, no such luck.) ;), hmmm... (cool, I'm very glad to read that!) :)
Brunettepet (Very nice commentary, my friend. Always exciting to read I'm leaving you hanging a bit, I hate to be predictable! Happy you liked the pillow bit.) :), wolf116 (yikes. :) And smiling. Nope, he hasn't. Not related to Superstar, no. :) Loved that there was a lot to comment on! And all of them were very valid! Feel free to ramble, anytime!) :), Scarlet Ibis (You show me a great courtesy when you come back chapter after chapter, and I would love to read your work, but I can't commit right now. I usually – and this is unfair to you darling readers, I know this – but I don't often commit to stories that aren't finished yet. Five out of ten of the stories I've actually started to read, have never had an ending, and I can't stand that. I've done it myself ONCE, and though Then There Was You sort of summed that story up, I still felt terrible! Anyways, please, when it's finished I would LOVE to read it, believe me. Just don't take it personally in any way, okay? Okay. Smirking over the layers thing. Very true, of course. And the onion thing made me think of Spike and his obsession with the thing the Bronze does to their onions. Hah!) ;)
Shelly (Great you liked the pillow:) Aw, well, thank you very much! I'm so happy that you find my stories interesting! And I won't stop! I'm addicted!) :), Willow25 (Thank you very much! I'm more than giddy that you like it!) :), Megan (Jeez:) Ohhhh, sorry. That wasn't supposed to be about Angel at all. Might need to revise that. I know Angel is featured in Buffy's thoughts in the beginning of that chapter. Bad on me. Wow, really got you going with this chapter, didn't I. And have to say, very cool. You saw things in there I hadn't even realized myself. It was wild to read your analysis. Made me go: golly. And well, Spike brought Drusilla babies. That's pretty bad. I know that a lot of his darkness can be blamed on her influence, as said, he has always been completely whippable... or a total fool for love, perhaps. ;) Hah, hah, "as in, NOT". LOVELY reading your review. Absolutely delicious! Braincandy. Thank you!) :),
ReeseAnn (Always great to catch you off guard. And that IS a very good question.) :), MaidenRo (Oh, I am soooo sorry that this is soooo late! You read my reason up above, right! pleading puppy eyes Heh, green-eyed monster. And yeah, you show lots of love for it. Hey, NOTHING wrong with that, in my book.) :), Aisling-Siobhan (I'm so, so glad you like the story, and I'm so, so sorry about the update being late! Two chapters though! Am I somewhat redeemed? ;) Thanks!):), Mel (Glad ya liked the pillow. Heh. And wow, that's late!) :), SlaYeRGiRLkaL (Sorry, that this is late, and... here it is!) :), AJ (Happy you like! Glad to see you back! Here's more!) :) and Maiden Ro HERE IT IS!
Thank you one and all! I love it! Love having you aboard! Never fear if I'm absent, it never IS intentional, I promise!
Many hugs and all my love,
Annie.
¤
The Age of Miracles
¤
"But the strange thing is," Buffy stated the next morning, speaking to the gathered Gang, "that I was out walk-... patrolling the other night and I didn't get one single slay. My count's been down lately, way down."
"Think they're biding their time? Gathering strength? Regrouping?" Xander wondered.
"I really don't know. Riley'll be back in two days... The Initiative might have something different to report."
"Do you really think Adam wants war?" Willow asked, trying not to sound worried and casting a comforting glance at Tara, seated at her side.
"I have no idea what Adam wants," Buffy replied. "The stuff that he's done..." She shivered with disgust. "It doesn't matter. We'll find a way to stop him."
"Well, you always do, don't you?" Anya said matter-of-factly, getting off Xander's lap as she rose. "That was a wasted hour."
"You know, I really don't like your snide remarks, Anya," Giles scoffed, rising as well. "What we do here may seem trivial to you, but without a form of structure and union in where we stand, pandemonium will be the only force once we do try to stop whatever is happening."
He looked at the stares directed over his shoulder, toward the front door, and then he turned around.
Willow couldn't believe it.
"Oz."
¤
After lunch Buffy headed to Stevenson Hall. Entering the room, Willow was sitting on her bed, looking thoughtful. Buffy smiled at her.
"Hey."
"Hey."
"What's with the gloom?"
Willow tried to smile, but couldn't.
"Oz is back," she murmured.
"I caught that," Buffy smirked, having a seat at the foot of the bed.
"He's back and he can control the howling-at-the-moon thing."
"Wow... Wait, your face is all scowly."
"It doesn't mean to be. I mean, this is so wonderful. I'm so happy for Oz, you know?"
Buffy smiled.
"And you know why he did it, right? Went to all this trouble just to get control."
"Yes. Of course, I do. And... it's everything I ever wanted. Last fall. Now, things are different. I'm different..."
"Okay..." Buffy said slowly, then added: "You're over him?"
"No." Willow checked herself, continuing: "I mean, I love Oz, Buffy. I love him just as much as I did before he left."
"And that's a bad thing."
"Yes!"
"Why?"
"Because... of Tara."
Buffy raised her eyebrows.
"Tara's jealous of Oz?"
"She might be."
"I know you've been spending all this time with her, and I know you've grown really close, and it might cut into hanging out with her, but she has to understand..." Buffy trailed off at the look on Willow's face. "No... She doesn't have to understand. She should be jealous," Buffy mumbled, Willow nodding slowly.
"Not that I want her to be jealous, but..."
"No. That's fine, Will. Absolutely. I mean, she should be able to feel whatever she wants to feel. She's one of your best friends, right? You know her better than anyone. It won't make anything weird between you!"
Buffy tried not to stare at her friend, but there was only so much she could do. This was a bolt coming from the center of the earth and causing a major earth quake on its way up before hitting the unsuspecting Slayer in the chin, or some other body part that would leave her feeling totally thunderstruck.
"You're freaked," Willow said.
"No!" Buffy shook her head, calming down. "Absolutely no," she added, meaning it; grabbing Willow's hand. "I'm sorry if I made you think I'm not okay with this. I'm so okay with it. I just... had no clue."
"I wasn't sure either, at first. I didn't wanna tell anyone. I was afraid it might ruin it, you know?"
"Yeah. ...What're you gonna do?"
"I don't know... It's Oz. ...I wish I could do it so no one got hurt."
"There's no way to do it so no one gets hurt. You have to make a choice, and stick with it. It's the only way to go."
¤
The Slayer felt calm, almost sedated. She had been under this sensation for the entire day; it was soothing her nerves like balm. It had been so simple, really. She accepted that she had decided, and now everything was lighter.
She walked in the deep shade of the large oaks taking her to her next class, contemplating her homework and feeling like she had rushed it. She was sure Ms. Hollander would cock an eyebrow as she handed them out, a big fat C on the corner of the Slayer's. Yeah, it wouldn't surprise her one bit...
"Buffy!"
She jumped, dropping her books in the process and then glaring at the reason for her start.
"What are you doing!" she exclaimed.
"Skulking," he replied, then shook his head as if to drop the subject, approaching her.
"It's day, Spike. Day, remember? Sunlight. Rays of death from a clear blue sky."
"I took the tunnels."
"I don't care. Go back where you came from. I'm busy."
"So this is how it's gonna be now?" he asked and she straightened her back, her books under one arm as she faced him again.
"This is how it's always been," she replied simply.
And it was. Looking at him now she was surprised how clear her impatience, her intolerance of him close to her, her anger and resentment of him, really were within her. There was nothing else there now. She should've been shocked, but wasn't. It was how it was supposed to be.
He took in the detachment on her features.
Oh.
"Jolly good."
The sarcasm was tangible.
"Anything but jolly," she replied.
"You're not happy?"
"I will be. Once you're gone." She held his gaze for a long moment, then added slowly: "I choose Riley."
Spike arched an eyebrow, then the slight humor faded from his eyes and he grew solemn.
"Can't say I'm surprised," he murmured.
She turned and began to walk away. He watched her go, then remembered and got himself moving after her, saying:
"This wasn't why I came." She didn't respond and he caught up with her, making her stop and face him before he finished: "I've just had a very interesting meeting."
"Okay, make this quick. I'm late for class."
"Adam scooped me up in his big, friendly arms and carried me off to an adventure underground. Brief enough?"
Buffy stared at him.
"Why would he do that?"
"He's under the impression I still have a reason to want you dead," Spike replied, his gaze growing intense and she glared at him.
"And why did you come here then?"
"'Cause maybe I don't."
"Are you telling the truth?"
"Wanna try me?"
"Buffy!" Willow's voice yelled, the Wicca soon appearing on the path, running towards them. "They've taken him!"
"What? Who's taken who?"
Willow stopped by her friend, nearly jumping from impatience.
"The Initiative! They've taken Oz!"
"Why?"
"He changed. He found out about... He must've lost control and now they've taken him down there and they're gonna do all these experiments on him and..."
"Alright, calm down. We don't know that that's what they're gonna do."
Spike snorted and Buffy gave him a look, which shut him up.
"Don't worry, we'll get him out of there," Buffy reassured her friend, turning to Spike she said: "Go home and stay there. If you're offering your help, I need it. I'll come by later."
He gave a nod and left swiftly.
Buffy squeezed Willow's arm.
"It'll be alright," she said gently. "They won't hurt him."
I hope, she added to herself, wishing Riley would get back sooner.
¤
She got to the crypt right after sunset. Spike wasn't upstairs and so she nonchalantly headed down the ladder, walking into the room lit by one single candle. He seemed to have just woken up, sitting on the edge of the bed, jeans on, but unbuttoned.
There was a flare of simple desire sending a sudden tremble through her, and it caught her completely off guard. For the entire day she hadn't thought of him once. She had gone about her business and longed for Riley. She had remembered all the good times she'd had with the mortal, and she had smiled at the fact that he was soon to return. And she could be with him. But now the need to be close to the bleached blonde was taking over her completely. Every sense inside of her professed it. She could taste him on her tongue and her heart began to pound in her ribcage. God, she had never seen him look better.
"You have no manners, Slayer," he muttered, stretching before rising.
She used violent force through her teeth, biting down hard on the inside of her cheek to get a hold of herself, and then she simply demanded:
"Tell me about Adam."
"Tall and ugly. Confident as hell."
"Yes, this much I'm glaringly aware of. What else?"
She swallowed as his hands moved to the button of his pants, slowly doing it up and not noticing how she was nearly drooling. This was bad on so many levels. Her head was starting to spin.
"He sure knows exactly what he wants."
And what do you want? she nearly asked, clenching her jaws together hard as she kept her eyes stubbornly in his, disregarding his bare chest.
Out loud she inquired:
"And what is that?"
"Well, he didn't tell me. But he took me into the Initiative, spluttering about how he wants to change the world and how his Mother had big plans for him... He's out of his mind. And wants me with him."
"So... again you can't tell me anything useful," she sighed, shaking her head and turning back toward the ladder.
She marveled at her escape being so close.
"Have you been listening?" he stopped her with a growl. "He wants me to join his team."
She gritted her teeth and then faced him again. She spurted the first thing that came to mind.
"So why don't you? What's stopping you?"
His gaze turned cold and then he approached her angrily.
Oh, God, get away!
"You can act like nothing happened when you're with your bloody friends, but don't stand there and ask me that. You know why."
She shook her head slowly.
She didn't want to know why.
"Just stop," she said.
"I know you feel what I feel... I can see it in your eyes every time you look at me."
She stared at him, her hands almost reaching out to touch him, but she held them back. She did feel something, but these yearnings moving inside of her, had nothing to do with love. Had nothing to do with anything but flesh and blood and pulsating pleasure. And she couldn't share that with him. Ever again. No, what she felt wasn't love, she knew that now. And it never could be anything but what it was.
"You only see what you want to see," she murmured, his gaze shading until his eyes were dark blue.
It wasn't aggravation, but defeat. Heavy and sullen it took over his stance before he turned from her.
"Since I'm leaving in six days I guess you'd better plan the layout of my infiltration... Get you as much information as possible."
"Yeah," she said, watching him walk back up to the bed. "But you know ...you don't have to help."
"I know," he muttered, grabbing his T and pulling it on.
He listened to her ascend the ladder.
Then he reached out, killing off the flame of the candle, standing by the bed, with two fingers.
¤
She dreamed of his hands. They were touching her tenderly, checking for bruises, for cuts, wanting to help and protect. They slid up her legs, over her hips and stomach, further up to her throat and into her hair where they took a tight hold and pulled her head back, exposing her neck. She saw the gleam in two yellow eyes right before his fangs sunk deep into her neck.
She woke in a fever, feeling herself shivering as she sat up, blinking sleep away and realizing her eyes were filled with tears.
Childish, she reproached herself. It wasn't anything but a nightmare. Nothing to get worked up over.
She pushed the covers aside and rose, walking up to the sink and filling a glass up with water. Drinking it in hard gulps she looked over where Willow lay sleeping. Oz was saved, and gone. It felt like it had all happened too fast. Like Willow at least should've been given a few more days to make up her mind.
Guess it was already made up, Buffy thought, putting the glass down and walking back up to the bed, crawling under the covers and pulling them up to her chin.
Then an arm snaked around her waist, pushing her back against a chest and she smiled to herself; relaxing. The familiar scents of his crypt encircled her and she turned her head to look at him through the pitch black. He kissed the tip of her nose, making her smile widen. She moved around so she could snuggle close to him, his embrace hardening.
"I won't ever let you go," he murmured.
"I know," she whispered.
And then he was gone, and she was dressed, sitting on the bed with her eyes fixed on a burnt down candle. Its white body had floated out in a gentle puddle, dripping over the edge of the low bedside table. She reached out a hand and as her finger touched the wick a flame slowly grew onto it. She stared, fascinated.
With that image she woke; the sun, shining in through her window, stinging her eyes. She muttered, rolling over onto her back. She went through her schedule for Wednesday and grumbled. The feeling of the need to get up was still keeping its distance, and she contemplated falling back asleep. But, no, she couldn't. Even if she tried.
She got dressed and ready; trying not to think of the dream, but having the images be too real, too pressing for attention. They wouldn't leave her alone. His voice soft in her ear, his arms strong in their hold. She had felt deliriously safe. And with this dream, other dreams came back to haunt her. Dreams of him being chained to a wall...
No, she thought. Not him. The demon.
She had bolted his demon to a wall, and it had fought to get loose, but hadn't been able to. So, what did that mean? Had it been a Slayer dream? No, it couldn't have been. Why would she have a vision that had to do with something as trivial as that vampire? He didn't matter enough in the big picture. Did he?
But he's changed.
She hated that thought, but it was like drops of crystal pouring through her mind, cleansing it softly until it lay shimmering everywhere.
And he was changed.
Change. Such a strange word. What did it really entail? He hadn't changed. If he got the chip out, he'd still be the same murderous, raw and merciless killer that he had always...
She tried not to remember all the things he had said.
That he would give it all up.
For her.
That's not change, she told herself. I'm not change. It needs to be within him. Ath was right. It's his issues and he needs to deal with them.
'It's so easy to pretend all that stuff away, but it's who you are.'
Her own words ringing in her ears and suddenly tears rose in her eyes.
It's too hard, she thought. Why does it have to be so hard?
¤
She headed out of the dorm, and wasn't able to resist looking a little deeper into the shadows around her as she went on her way. It was ridiculous that they'd be dark enough for him to elude the sun, but she sure had seen proof of it yesterday.
She pushed back the slight disappointment when he didn't turn out to be anywhere he might've been. The shadows were nothing but shadows, not hosts for his form. Stupid shadows. They sure were useless. She headed into the building of her first class.
The day went by slowly. She kept glancing at the watch. For the first time in quite some time she found herself longing for patrol. She wanted to get out there and find a nest. She was in the mood for it. A good, long, hard fight. She shifted in her seat, distantly hearing the words of her professor as she went over the different moves of the battle in her head. There'd be five – no, six of them. She'd start with the biggest, killing him off to show the other's who they were dealing with. And then... we'll, improvisation was always more exhilarating.
At four thirty she had a shower, blow-dried her hair, put on a touch of make-up and began to decide what would be most comfortable to wear. Black pants and black top... A little too dark, for her taste. Maybe her leather pants and a white shirt with her gray coat... Nah, not very fun. A white sweater with her dark blue jeans. But stains on white... Oh, what to do, what to do. Finally she settled on a light blue sweater she hadn't worn in ages, her leather pants and black coat. She needed the stealth of dark colors after all.
It was six o'clock. Half an hour until sundown.
She grabbed Mr. Pointy and headed out the door.
"You look nice. Going to the Bronze? It's a little early, isn't it?" Willow asked, coming down the hallway.
Buffy raised her eyebrows.
"No, going on patrol," she replied. "Never a little early for that... And I don't look nicer than usual." She paused, then asked: "How are you?"
"I'm good," Willow smiled. "It's still a little rough, but I know I made the right choice."
"Then that's all that matters," Buffy smiled back.
She continued toward the exit, coming out into air that was beginning to truly carry the touch of spring. She headed for the seventh cemetery of Sunnydale, as it was the farthest away from the one hosting his crypt. Slipping her coat off, she put it over one of the headstones and then sat down on it with a sigh, looking around.
"Nest, nest, lead me to a nest," she mumbled.
She looked at her watch. It was nearly six-forty-five. The sky was still light, but the sun was gone. So where were they? They couldn't do this to her, she was supposed to have a spot of action each night; it was assigned her by forces way out of any of their reach!
There! A movement!
She got to her feet and started to silently run in that direction, slipping between the branches she had seen moving and looking around. Nothing. Then, farther ahead. She followed it easily, jogging through clusters of trees, across a few streets, between a few houses, into another cemetery. She was close now, she could feel it. A nest! And then she slowed down, looking around with a frown.
"Alpert," she murmured, looking up at the large tomb before her, which carried that name. "I recognize you."
She heard steps behind her and quickly slid behind the tomb, pressing herself to the uneven surface of its stone. The steps continued passed her and she carefully peeked around the corner. The steps stopped. She furrowed her brow, getting her stake out, her concentration taking over right before she jumped out, drawing her arm back.
"Jesus Christ!" Spike exclaimed, jumping back with his hands in front of him.
She stared at him, lowering her arm.
She had missed him. It was so simple to admit it. It had been less than a day since she saw him last, and she had missed him. She had wondered what he was doing, who he was seeing. Disliking the thought of that vampiress' arms around him. No, not disliking, loathing. But the desire that the Slayer had expected, this time was nothing but a low hum in her chest as she looked at him. She was happy to see him, that was the foremost emotion, and it scared the hell out of her.
Covering it up, she crossed her arms over her chest.
"Spike!" she then said. "I thought it was a vampire."
"I am a vampire."
"I mean, a real vampire."
"Shut your gob."
"One I can kill," she said, meaningfully.
"Hunting, are we?" he asked and she narrowed her eyes before they suddenly widened.
"My coat," she grumbled, beginning to walk.
"Then shouldn't you be at the mall?" he wondered, following.
She looked quizzical, then shook her head.
"No, my coat! I left it when I followed... Yeah, where'd it go? Were you on Suncrest Hill just now?"
"I wouldn't be caught dead on Suncrest Hill. Only fledglings hang on Suncrest Hill."
"Take that as a no," she replied dryly. "Weird..."
"Notice how quiet it's gotten around here lately?" he changed the subject. She nodded. "Funny thing - the soldiers were bringing demons in by the hordes yesterday," he stated. "There was a lot of activity happening and Adam was like a giddy school-boy about it. Calling it 'perfect' and all that."
"As any super-villain would." She looked at him, wondering what he was really thinking. "I was in there too, last night," she continued.
"Rescuing Wolf boy?"
"Yes..."
"You get him out?"
"Yeah. We did. I think Riley's gonna have a fit, but..."
"What, over you saving one of your friends?"
"He thinks every demon is the same."
"No!" Spike gasped and she gave him a look, then had traces of a smile on.
"I'm not sure I can make him understand..."
"Soldier boy's gonna take one look at you, and you won't even have to explain."
"How can you be so sure?" she asked doubtfully.
"'Cause that's love, pet. Makes you do things you don't understand... don't want to understand... but can't stop yourself from doing."
She met his gaze at that, then glanced away, self-conscious. There was a swirl inside of her now, every time her eyes met his. Butterflies. And the need to smile, just a little. This was insanity. Walk away, Buffy. Walk away.
"Did you just wake up?" she inquired and he smiled.
Her knees went weak and she smiled a trembling smile back, unsure of why. She was beginning to feel silly.
"That I did," he confirmed. "Thought I'd head to Carmine's."
"What about Willy's?"
"Not really welcome there. Was nice bringing you, just to make the old lads foam at the mouth, but it's not the same now." She smiled the shadow of a smile. "'Sides, the gambling's always been better at Carmine's."
She looked him over, then remarked:
"No kittens."
"Promised a lady I'd never harm another feline," he replied. "Call me old fashioned, but a promise is a promise."
She had to smile again, then cleared her face of the expression and focused on doing the walking; struggling to remember what it was she disliked about him. She had to be able to come up with something. But glancing at him, all she could remember were the times he had made her laugh until she couldn't breathe. Or how truthfully he had looked at her, telling her things about himself, his life...
He watched her for a few seconds, feeling all these new emotions, he'd never felt before he met her, keep on stirring within him. They seemed to be growing stronger for each moment; for each time he saw her. Nuances of her seemed so perfectly obvious to him, and still he couldn't fathom what she was thinking right now.
"Buy you a drink?" he asked and she met his gaze again.
"Thanks... but I have to get my coat... It doesn't like the cemetery and if I leave it there too long it'll mold on me."
"So go get it," he smirked. "Then come and let me buy you a drink."
"At Carmine's?"
"At Carmine's."
She hesitated, then simply watched him as he turned to the left, heading down a street taking him to the glimmering neon sign over the mentioned bar.
He wasn't sure what the bleeding hell to expect. The last time he'd seen her had been far from pleasant, after all. But now... He had made her smile again. He took that for a good sign. Whatever he had damaged the night prior, with his absolutely reckless statements, might be reparable.
When he looked at her, he wanted to make the pain go away. He could see parts of her suffering from it. Because she was right. His past was who he had been up until the moment he realized that he was in love with her. He wanted, more than anything, to erase it. To be worthy of her trust. Her respect. He didn't know how to get there. But if he could reach her, somehow, he was certain the road would reveal itself.
She would, for better or worse, guide him to it.
Buffy slowed her step, but made herself continue on her set out course.
Mold, she told herself. Your favorite coat and you won't be able to wear it again because of the mold.
And she did reach the headstone where it was still resting peacefully, as if mocking her with the lie of its need of rescue.
"You rescued me," she muttered, grabbing it and pulling it on.
¤
Ten minutes later she walked through the door of the bar. She had all but run back to it, cursing every step she was taking, and still almost skipping. Calling herself an idiot hadn't helped, and now she was soon to be in his presence once more.
Addicted, her mind muttered, but she shook it off.
He wasn't ruling her. Nothing was going to happen, she was just going to let him buy her a drink, for crying out loud. No harm in that whatsoever.
The bar was dimly lit and reminded her a lot of Willy's, only there were no apparent demon's about. She sensed five or so vamps, most of whose heads turned her way.
"Don't worry, gentlemen," she said, "I'm here on unofficial business."
Two left just the same. She spotted Spike in a booth, back to her, and braced herself before she proceeded up to him. He was taking a mouthful of beer, glancing up at her with a crooked smile. She gave him a dirty look and sunk down on the seat facing him.
"I don't think it's the smartest move sitting together sharing drinks when you're supposed to be abhorring me," she pointed out. "Adam might hear of it," she elaborated at the vamp's cocked eyebrow. He didn't reply, merely eyed her in his characteristic way and finally she just sighed, leaning back. "About that drink," she added and he smiled, getting to his feet and walking up to the bar.
He returned with a glass of white wine, putting it before her. She twirled it absentmindedly, watching him take his seat again.
"See you got your coat," he said with a nod to her frame and she looked down at it, then back up at him.
"Yup," she replied before sliding it off her shoulders and putting it beside her, scratching her neck and having her eyes on her glass instead of in his.
"Cheers," he said and she raised the glass as he did, taking a sip of the wine.
"Hmh, this is pretty good," she said. He smiled at that. "I mean, I like white wine, but sometimes they're too dry or too fruity... But this was... pretty good."
"Where's Soldier boy at?" he changed the subject.
"He had to go home for a few days. I don't know if that was code for super-secret mission, or if he actually had to go home, but home he went. He'll be back tomorrow."
"Why can't we do the surgery now?"
She didn't like the falling feeling in her stomach.
"Eager to get away?" she asked.
"No, just curious."
"The doctor's busy. He couldn't pencil you in 'til then."
"Sure... has all those other vamps in there now. Probably working round the clock to put the bloody scalpel to all of them."
"At least you're not bitter or resentful," she said, a sudden gleam in her eyes that made him smile again.
"Don't tease, love, it's too unlike you."
"Right, I'm usually more to the point."
"In every sense of the word," he nodded, raising both eyebrows before taking another swig of his beer.
"Maybe I'm only like that with you."
He held her gaze at that, putting the beer down and then tilting his head a little to the side before he replied:
"No. You say what you mean and mean what you say... To avoid misunderstandings. You listen attentively to others, so long as you're not busy nagging their bloody ears off; and you never hold a grudge, because you don't believe in them."
She stared at him; he had a small smile on. She remembered having said those things to him.
"I was naïve, what can I say? As a blushing fifteen year old boy I bet you weren't more educated in the world than that."
"You were more open," he commented.
"I was too open. And willing to believe. Many a wound have I stopped since then by realizing that there's complexity to everything. Nothing's black or white, there are shades of gray in between. Once you learn to read them... you reach a Zen-like state and are one with the force."
He smirked.
"How's that working out for you?"
"I'm part guru, but it's a secret," she whispered the last and his smile broadened.
"That Watcher's working you pretty hard."
"I work me hard," she shrugged. "I'm not going out anytime soon."
"I can believe that," he said, her eyes searching his before she gave a half smile. "So, is it what you want? Slaying. If you had a choice..."
"But I don't," she said, still smiling a little though her gaze turned melancholy. "It's not just what I do anymore, it's who I am. I don't think I could ever walk alone at night and not listen for a rustle in the bushes, know what I mean? Besides, I lost my powers once... and it was the worst few days I'd ever experienced since getting them."
"You know, I never fully understood what you are before I had you as close to me as you were," he stated. "I'd studied your moves before, but..."
"Really?" she asked, a glitter of sudden flattery in her gaze. "You studied me?"
"Don't let it go to your head," he muttered and that produced a bright smile.
"Well, you stepping into my life with the opening threat of 'This Saturday, I kill you', may give me reason to feel a little satisfied at the fact that you actually had to step back and go 'Or maybe I won't'," she then remarked.
He smiled against better judgment.
"It was never a matter of 'if' – it was a matter of 'how'," he retorted.
"And yet, here I am, alive and well with two healed scars to thank you for."
"What I was going to say," he jumped away from that comment and back to his original train of thought, making her smirk as she took another sip of her wine, "was that your power doesn't come from how high you can kick or how quick you deliver a punch, it comes from lack of fear. You're not afraid to die, are you?"
The last question came out more like a statement, and she cocked an eyebrow.
"I don't want to die, if that's what you're saying."
"It's not."
She thought it over for a few moments.
"I guess you're right," she mumbled. "I know I'm going to, sooner or later... and it doesn't scare me. Perhaps I feel like it won't happen until... it's supposed to, you know? I don't know, sounds kinda weird."
He shook his head.
"But you're not unlike me in that," she said before she could stop herself, his eyes in hers before he smiled again.
"Maybe," he replied. "Self-confidence is key, pet. And you know you're good. You're one of the best, after what I hear. And only nineteen."
She didn't know what to say to that, merely rested her eyes in his before she stated:
"Sunnydale's pretty good training ground."
"What's the most beastly of beasts you've fought here, then, Slayer?"
She raised her eyebrows.
"That's a very good question."
¤
"It's so dark I can't see a flaming thing, I'm stumbling around like another sodding idiot trying to find the torch Darla's sworn is supposed to be down there, I finally find it and lit it and lo and behold I'm in a bleeding torture chamber!"
Buffy smiled, swallowing some more of her second glass of wine.
"What'd you do?"
"I can hear feet above me, and I can hear water below me, so I'm trying to find a trapdoor that'll take me into the stream, yeah? And then I hear this massive crack and I realize that the bloody mob's breaking down the door."
"Well, can you blame them, you thief!"
"No. No, I can't. But at the time I was thinking more along the lines of my prominent demise. So then I hear feet trampling down the passage and I finally see the trapdoor, hidden under this huge chest filled with torture devices all rusty with blood and intestines and I drag it aside and get the door open and throw the torch onto a pile of dry old fabric before I plunge headfirst into water so cold I was grateful I didn't have a breath to lose."
"Whoa," she breathed.
"Second that," he nodded. "I drift with the stream to the river and swim to shore and who's there to meet me?"
"Darla."
"And Drusilla, both looking as innocent as lambs. Darla wants her necklace and I start looking for it, but..."
Buffy stared at him, and then her eyes grew.
"You didn't!"
"I did. Bleeding well dropped it! I bet it's still at the bottom of that river somewhere, just waiting to be found."
"But why did Darla send you in there? She could easily have charmed her way inside, I'm sure."
"Oh, be sure. But she and Dru loved playing Angelus and me against each other, it was their hobby. And Angelus and I liked trying to beat each other. Kept us occupied."
She smiled, sitting back in her seat.
"Wow," she mumbled.
"What?"
"Just... that you've always been Dru's lapdog. It's actually quite on this side of funny," she said, then her smile widened as he glared at her, it soon enough dissipating for a smile in return.
She looked at her watch and reached for her coat.
"I have to go," she said.
He rose as she rose, reaching out a tentative hand to help her put the coat on. She smiled once more, looking up at him before she said:
"Thanks... for the drinks."
"Anytime you need a lethal-looking, leather wearing male at your side..." he replied and she smirked.
"Good night, then."
She proceeded passed him up to the door. Then stopped and turned around, her gaze meeting his.
"It's a long walk back to the school... care to keep me company?" she asked, still unsure of what she was doing as the words flowed out of her mouth.
He dropped a few bills on the table and came up to her, merely giving her a look as a response, before heading before her out the door. She followed, a sense of contentment spreading through her. They walked slowly, not saying anything for a while, looking at each other from time to time.
"I've never seen you calm," she finally stated. He looked questioning and she smiled tentatively. "Just being," she added. "Like you are now. You're usually so..."
"Pre-meditated?"
"No," she rolled her eyes at him.
"Rough?"
"No. Well, yeah."
"Rotten?"
She stopped at that, holding his gaze for a long moment before she said honestly:
"I used to think so."
"And what do you think now, Slayer?"
Her heart slowed down to a crawl inside her.
"Intense! That's the word I was looking for," she said, beginning to walk again, having him follow the motion.
"Paying me a compliment, love?" he wondered with a smile and she smirked.
"Wouldn't go that far."
"How far would you go?"
She glanced at him, hearing the subtle innuendo in his words and then smiling it away.
Half an hour later they were getting closer to campus; the conversation for the past ten minutes having touched down on Buffy's past. She had spoken of how, even as a child, she'd pretended to be a superhero of some kind, feeling it was her destiny to help people.
"Of course, I always figured it was as a doctor or a firefighter or a cop," she had said.
"And now you get to be all of them," he had pointed out.
"Hardly," she shook her head. "I can't stitch straight to save my life and I've mostly been the cause of fires."
Which had lead into a description of the months leading up to the burnt down high school gymnasium.
"I guess I wasn't always walking around questioning everything back then," she now sighed.
"Like you do now, you mean?" he asked.
"Shut up," she smirked.
"It's good to question. But then you just have to know when to stop and..."
"Smell the roses?"
"I wasn't gonna say that."
"Of course you weren't," she said, then laughed at his expression.
It was the first time she'd laughed in a very long time, and the sound caught them both of guard. She cleared her throat, wrapping her arms around her and looking up at the bright moon. A bird sang somewhere and she listened to it.
"Pretty," she said. "I wonder what kind it is."
He was gone from her side in the blink of an eye, making her stop and turn around in a circle, frowning.
"Spike?"
Then he emerged through the bushes, his hands cupped over each other as he held them in front him. She kept the frown on, wondering what he was doing. He stopped before her, smiling a little.
"It's frightened," he said. "Don't make any quick movements."
She watched as he slowly opened his hands and her eyes grew a little at the sight of the tiny bird sitting on his palm. Then she smiled, her gaze in his just as the bird spread its wings and with a flitter lifted into the air, quickly disappearing.
They arrived at the doorstep of Stevenson, Buffy turning to him with a myriad of emotions inside.
"Thanks for..."
"Don't mention it."
She smiled a little.
"I had a... good time," she mumbled and he returned the smile. "We're having a meeting at Giles' tomorrow at seven. Can you be there?"
"I'll be there."
"Good. I'll see you then."
"See you then," he nodded.
She took a step up on the stairs.
"Good night," she said.
"Good night."
She hesitated, then smiled another small smile and turned, walking up to the door and slipping inside.
She walked up the steps of the stairs in a haze of a glowing warmth spreading soft fingers through her. She was smiling to herself. Everything seemed uncluttered in her head now. Like someone had decided it was time to clean up in there, and had helped sort everything out. It had been a good evening. A great evening. But...
Below her window Spike felt like he was flying with the tiny little bird high, high up in the sky. It was strange how needing to be close to someone could make you feel so free. He was happy, and refused to consider that happiness – as too much else – is a fleeting thing.