Hello, all! Wow, guess the posting-once-a-week comment I left at the beginning of the very first chapter of this story is really coming back to haunt me, isn't it? Time, time, time, it runs by sooo fast, and when there's a little too little to go around... well. Not fun. At least this is a verrrrry long chapter, and I hope not many of you will go grumble-grumble, but that most of you will go good-good.
Here's looking at you, kids. ;)
To effulgentgirl aka Kendra (thank you! I'm so glad you enjoyed it! And sorry about the updates not being very close in between at the moment! And true, about the Spike smiles and the Riley smiles.) :), ReeseAnn (for both, thank you:) So nice you liked. And you know Buffy with the bad decision making. And heh about the Willow thing, was wondering when I'd get a comment on that. smirk) ;), Nessie (Very nice you love it. And yes, what IS Ath doing? Hmmm...) ;P, Scarlet Ibis (for both, I'm truly grateful! Very cool to get a thought on the shades of gray thing. She is very contradictive, isn't she? That's the Buffy I just know and... usually want to smash into smithereens, but also can't have but hold slightly warmer affections toward as well. ;) Very, very, very, VERY much in agreement over the normalcy comment.) :), kim (for both, my most humble thanks. And good, please do. Glad you approve:) Hah-hah, great to read! Both about the not good vibes and the Spike teasing.) :)
W1icked angel (smirking here, girl. And indeed, indeed, her superhuman powers are sometimes completely misplaced on that woman. Wow, I do wish – ack, hope this won't get me into trouble ;) – that I could post two chapters everyday for you guys! No matter how quick my fingers are, and no matter how pressing this story is to get out on paper, it's just not the reality I live in! I hope you'll take this offering, though. A chapter is after all a chapter, right?) :), MaidenRo (Thank you so very much for both reviews! Thank you. Your "well written" felt good in the place it should. Very warming. And it was very nice to write them being... you know... normal. :) Oh, and the gods, the gods. :) And Riley, yes, he is unfortunate, all of him, isn't he? Well, here is another chapter, then.) :)
Megan (It's so much fun reading your comments. I love getting the juice of the inside of my readers heads. Also, it gives me perspective of how well I'm actually doing writing what I want you guys to get... or not get. :) And I could comment on everything, but that would give a lot away so... Was truly an awesome read, though. Write more of those, if you feel compelled to. :) And I can barely handle watching the eps she stayed with Riley. I mean, seriously, ick. And whoa, thanks for that compliment, girl. That's incredibly nice of you!) :), bloodshedbaby (hey! Thanks! Glad you liked. And yes, the reviews are coming through. Thank you very much for that! I'm so happy you're archiving this story!) :), SlaYeRGiRLkaL (oh, hope I didn't make it too long! Divide it up, girl, divide it up:) Thanks though, I'm very happy that you liked it!) :)
To all, love ya, see ya and hope you'll enjoy this!
A.M.L, Annie.
¤
Ball of String
¤
The evening went on, but the fact that everybody had early mornings the following day – everybody except Anya, Calor and Ath, that was – had them finally face that it was time to break it up. They all rose, collected their things and headed for the door.
Buffy kept her gaze in Riley's as he was speaking with her, and then she laughed. And she meant it. She thought he was funny and sweet and terrific and she remembered falling in love with him, how easy it had been once she allowed herself the luxury. She remembered how frightened she had been for him when he got sick, how she had missed him, how determined she had been to get him back. And with all those memories surrounding her, Spike's words dimmed away into non-concrete static.
The group faced each other outside the club.
"Thanks for tonight, it was wonderful to meet you all," Ath said.
"Same," Xander smiled, after Anya had given him a possessive glare.
Since their fight at the fraternity they had been virtually inseparable. Buffy smiled at them as Riley wrapped his arms around her from behind.
"We'll do it again," Willow assured.
After agreements they all went on their way; Willow, Buffy and Riley walking together back to campus. They talked about Ath and Calor. Willow and Riley agreed that they seemed very nice and un-demony. Buffy nodded, holding hands with Riley and feeling like everything was so right. As right as it could be. She was happy again. It was like she'd told Willow – she felt like she was getting back to herself. The way she was supposed to be.
Willow and Riley laughed over something and Buffy chimed in. They were nearing the dorms and it was time for Riley to take a different path, bringing him to the fraternity. He stopped, turning to Buffy.
"So..." he said.
"So," she said, standing on her toes and kissing him gently on the lips. "I'm happy you could come."
"Me too. Feel like I haven't seen you in ages."
He ran a hand softly over her shoulder and down her arm. Her smile widened. Then she put her arms around him and hugged him tight before stepping back, looking up at him.
"You'll see me tomorrow," she said.
He frowned slightly.
"Promise," he asked.
"Promise," she answered.
"Okay..." he mumbled hesitantly, watching her as she hooked arms with Willow and headed for their dorm.
Willow glanced at Buffy. The Slayer finally picked up on it and raised her eyebrows.
"What?"
"Nothing," Willow replied. There was a lapse of silence and then she picked up with: "I liked Ath and Cale. Given he was stiff as a board, but still." Buffy smiled at that. "Ath seemed to enjoy herself, though. She said the Gilded Bronze was the best thing she'd ever tasted, if you can believe that... I've never gotten the sourness." Buffy smiled again. "And she really thought Spike was a good dancer, I guess the world is coming to an end."
"Why would you tell me that?" Buffy asked; stopping and making her friend do the same.
"Sorry. Honestly I thought you were beginning to get used to it..."
"Not the world ending!" Buffy interrupted.
Willow stared at her.
"Okay," the Wicca said, "tell me."
Buffy clenched her jaws together.
"What?"
"Why is he getting to you like this?"
"Why?" Buffy almost laughed, but it got caught in her throat and nearly turned into a sob.
The happiness was gone. The calm serenity, the certainty, the convictions, they went poof. All because of the picture of his arms around Ath, which the Wicca's so simple question stirred up. And Buffy couldn't stand how she couldn't stand it! She wanted to ignore it, push it away: the envy that curdled and sizzled as it rose in her throat. The envy of someone who was free to be on that dance floor with him. Who didn't have to care about stupid things like fangs and everything those stood for.
She looked away from her friend, suddenly feeling sincerely shaken. She was completely unprepared to have this sort of conversation with her friend.
"Yes, the reason," Willow now clarified.
"I don't know."
"Oh, come on."
"I don't know!" the Slayer exclaimed. "He's everything I hate. I should stay away from him, and it shouldn't be difficult or complicated. But there are things that have happened, that make me... feel..." She couldn't find the word. "And we're actually... I mean, he's... I'm... If I could make it go back to exactly what it was..." She trailed off, unable to finish. "Oh, God, I hate this! I really do. I hate it."
She turned from Willow, pulling her hands through her hair in frustration.
The redhead observed the back of the blonde for the longest moment, wanting to understand, sensing how badly this was getting to the Slayer. Finally Willow slowly stated:
"But you're with Riley."
"What do you want me to say?" Buffy asked, turning back to face the other. "I've tried to make the best of it."
"'The best of it'? This isn't you talking. Buffy, all that heartache you've gone through over Riley, that wasn't worth anything? Now he's just a convenient way of...?"
"Alright, stop it!" Buffy exclaimed, anger flashing in her eyes. "That's totally unfair; you know how much I care for him. That hasn't gone away! But, you have no idea what I've gone through these passed few weeks!"
"I have a pretty good idea."
"Look, tonight all I've done has been to tell that vampire to take it elsewhere; and I've tried to show Riley just how much he means to me!"
"So why aren't you with him now?" Willow wondered.
"I still don't feel ...completely there, okay?" Buffy said, starting to walk again.
Willow followed, coming up at her side and waiting for her to continue. She didn't, though, and they arrived at Stevenson Hall. They stayed quiet up all the stairs, during all of the getting ready for bed, and even when they got under the covers and turned out their lights.
Buffy felt the pressure of that silence work its way into her even after she had finally fallen asleep.
¤
Ath was measuring the cocoa when there was a knock at the kitchen door the following morning. She smiled as it opened hesitantly.
"Come on in, you know you don't have to knock," she said, turning to face Jonathan.
He smiled slightly, closing the door behind him and standing still. He couldn't help how every time he saw her, he just wanted to stay put in the place he was, and watch her. It was an inexplicable fascination with everything she did; with how she moved and spoke; how she smiled as though it was the beginning of the world. She loved to bake, for some reason, and so he loved to bake as well. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, and why she would want him around was something he couldn't understand; but it wasn't important why, it seemed she did, and he was content with knowing that much.
"Hi," she said and his smile widened.
"Hi. I see you've started."
"Yeah. I didn't have anything better to do. I hope that's alright."
"Sure."
He took off his jacket, gingerly placing it on one of the stools before coming up to her.
"How was the dinner?"
"It was nice," he shrugged, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater before washing his hands in the sink. "I don't get to see my grandparents very often. They're good people, I guess. A little stiff, maybe. Don't have much to talk to them about."
"Aren't they interested in you? Your life?"
"Yes, but there's not much going on in my life that they don't already know about."
"Excessive baking, perhaps?" she offered and he smirked.
Coming up to her, he looked at what she was doing.
"So, it's brownies today?"
"From scratch."
"The only way to go."
She turned her head to him and met his gaze.
She wondered why she always felt lighter when he was around. What were the strange sensations moving near her heart? How could she put them more easily into perspective? It didn't seem like it should be very hard. Here was Jonathan, and she liked him. There, that was settled. And then the questions rose. How much did she like him? Did he like her? Were they friends? Was there anything more there? What was this affecting, placing herself as a part of his life? She decided to ignore that last quandary, and smiled at him again.
It felt good, that was all that really mattered. She felt giddy and happy when she was near him. And she didn't want to let those emotions go. They were becoming significant to her. A part of her. She wondered, though, where it could possibly be headed. Because what could be nicer than this?
"Did you go to the Bronze?" he asked.
"We did," she replied, beginning to stir the batter. She liked the rich chocolate color of it. "It was just like you said."
"Liked the music?"
"Loved the music. Loved everything about it."
"Well... if you'd want, we could... you and I... we could... If you'd want?"
She stopped stirring, fastening her eyes in his, quizzical.
"I'm sorry, I haven't yet learned to add meaning when a sentence is unfinished," she said.
He smirked, feeling stupid.
"What I meant to say was that you and I could go there, together, if you'd want," he mumbled, barely able to look at her.
She smiled a little.
"Sure!" she said, beginning the stirring once more.
His eyes grew a tad.
"Really?" he asked.
"Yeah, of course," she nodded, smiling. "What'd you think, I'd say no?"
"Well... yeah," he replied.
Her smile broadened.
"I like that you're honest."
He cocked an eyebrow.
"Ath, why would you wanna be here... baking... with me? You could go out there and... rule!"
She smirked.
"I know I could," she said. "But out there isn't for me to rule. I'm here, baking, with you, because I wanna be here, baking... with you."
He met her gaze and held it.
Wow.
She smiled once more.
"Now, help," she instructed.
He reached out to grab the flour and she moved for the sugar, their hands meeting midair and both of them stopping, eyes landing in the others again. For a second everything was silent, and then Jonathan seemed to jerk out of it, removing his hand with a timid smile.
"Sorry, I'll just..."
"Yeah," she said.
She stared at him. She had never felt such a rush before. What an intoxicating, baffling sensation. Like falling from the sky. Her heart beat was quickening. And her eyes kept focusing on his mouth. She had seen people kiss... but if this was what led up to it, she thought she finally understood why they did it so frequently.
Was this what Buffy felt when she was close to Spike? Was it different depending on who you were with, or did she feel the same thing with Riley? Was that why there had been the hesitation on the Slayer in choosing? The goddess' mind began racing with questions and she slowed them down, focusing on the person at hand instead.
¤
"Mom!" Buffy yelled, stepping into the storage area of the gallery.
It was a large room, piled floor-to-ceiling with boxes, crates and covered paintings. All of them were neatly tagged. Joyce summers kept order in the disorder. Buffy smiled a little to herself, and since there was no reply to her call she was about to turn and leave when a voice said:
"She's not here."
Buffy's eyebrows rose as she realized to whom the voice belonged.
Walking forward she rounded a large bookcase and her eyes landed on Calor, sitting on the floor with, what looked like, ancient masks spread out around him.
"What're you doing here?" she asked.
"Did you know that tens of thousands of years ago, a mask was something more than what you hid behind? It was something that transformed you into another being. Mysticism was so attached to the core of the human spirit that the respect for these sorts of artifacts was so great not all of man could look directly at them." He finally glanced up and met Buffy's gaze, adding: "Isn't that something?"
She came up to him, sinking down on a crate and taking in the mask in his hand before she shrugged.
"History never was my strong-suit. Ask me anything about what goes bump in the night, and I'll tell you a few tales you've never heard before," she smiled.
He returned it, putting the mask down and observing her for a moment.
"I know you deal with many kinds of nasties in your line of work, but your primary enemy seems to be the vampire. Why is that, do you think?"
Buffy smirked.
"Well, I'm not called the Vampire Slayer for nothing."
He smiled as well.
"And yet they are there in abundance, aren't they? No matter how many you slay, they'll keep on coming. Does it ever weary you?"
"Does it ever weary me?" she repeated in mock-disbelief. "When you've been doing this for a few years you can come back and use the word weary. The proper termology would be exhausting-until-all-your-limbs-are-about-to-fall-off-and-your-head's-ready-to-explode migraine me. 'Weary me'," she said, shaking her head at him.
He smiled again.
"Forgive me for my lack of understanding."
"No worries." She eyed him for a moment, then asked: "What's with the whole 'groupie' thing Ath was talking about?"
"Nothing," he replied. "She's not very good with the... what was it? 'Termologies' of this world."
"Oh. So... what, you're not from this world?"
"Of course we are! In a sense, we are. Oh, darn."
He rose and she got to her feet as well.
"Look, I deal with interdimension traveling every other week. Calm down," Buffy said. "It's no biggy."
He swallowed, looking up at the ceiling and seemingly waiting for something. He was oddly jumpy this afternoon, or so Buffy thought. Finally he settled down again, taking his previous seat as Buffy did the same.
"So, all this," she said, sweeping her arm out to indicate the room, "really does it for you, huh?"
"I find it compelling. Touching these objects is like touching where you originally came from. Imagine, a thousand years from now someone might be holding that cross you wear around your neck, just having extracted it from a piece of dirt, marveling at the condition it's still in and eager to find out what purpose it served and what owners it had. Nothing can ruin history, Buffy. It's permanent. All you need to do is pay due attention to it. You never know, somewhere in there might be the answers you so desperately seek."
Buffy stared at him, then sunk back against the bookcase with a sigh. Calor watched her in silence. Waiting patiently for whatever was on her mind.
"'Learn from your mistakes'," she murmured meaningfully. "'History is bound to repeat itself'; and when it does... have pointed sticks and holy water handy." She met Calor's questioning expression with eyes slightly growing. "I'm sorry," she smiled. "Getting caught up in my own stuff here. I should go."
"If you need me to lend an ear, or two, I'm a bendy victim," he stopped her.
She hesitated.
"It's not that I need an ear, or two," she finally said, though gratefully. "It's just, perhaps I could use outside perspective. I sit here and I judge," she mumbled. "I judge my friends, I judge my mom, I judge the demon community actively... and I judge myself. But, who am I to do that? To sit and dictate what's right or wrong? Who can say what's right and what's wrong? Really? Am I an expert? Is it wrong of me to want him out of this town, and still... not? Is it right to take the chip out? Am I being selfish? Is this all some crazy ride I've been put on? Is it ending soon? I just..."
She trailed off, searching for the words.
"You sit in the center of your own universe, you know, and then something comes along that... shakes everything up so bad you don't know sky from ocean anymore." She huffed, mostly to herself. "There are sides to me I had no idea existed. Emotions I've felt, I had no idea were there. Could be there. And now, there's so much hurt. I feel like all I do is... hurt." The last word came out in a strained voice she barely recognized as her own. It was the first time she actually allowed herself to recognize the smoldering sensation near her heart. "When will it stop? When he's gone? When I'm gone? Will I be in pain over this... forever?"
Calor stared at her face, at the etched sadness all over her features. And then it slowly drew back, and she stood.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled once more. "I really don't know what came over me."
"Maybe," he said gently, "what you need isn't outside, but inside perspective?"
She held his gaze, then smiled faintly, giving a nod before walking out through the door.
Calor drew a slight breath. He had done wrong by her, and now she was paying. He felt a searing ache shoot through him as the sorrow over what he had inflicted upon her, took over him entirely.
¤
"And when this... ball of string inside seemed to get a bit untangled, I thought everything would get easier, but... I'm starting to think maybe it won't. And it sucks! I mean, what does a girl have to do? You understand, right?" the Slayer asked, looking down at the kitten walking beside her.
It was ten o'clock in the evening. The feline looked up with her green eyes, trusting and agreeing, and Buffy smiled.
"Yeah, I knew you would."
She squatted down, scratching Kitty behind the ears and under her chin gently.
"Now, run home," she said and the kitten soon disappeared over the lawn toward the familiar window of Tara's room.
Buffy watched her; then sighed. Patrolling beckoned, but it had been so boring lately she wasn't sure she wanted to go; much less needed to. And then there was the risk of running into Spike. She just didn't know if she could face him right now. She wasn't sure what to say, how to act around him. Because she didn't like the way she could sense that she was causing him agony over this. Over her.
Hold onto the aaaaahhhh feeling, she told herself. And think of nothing but Riley.
Riley.
I made my choice. And it was the right choice.
She began jogging, and then running, and before she knew it she was slowing down, entering Main Street. She walked passed the magic shop, against her will stopping before the large window of the bridal shop next door. Her right hand went to the empty spot of her left finger and she furrowed her brow, continuing on her way.
Passion.
Yes, she did feel it coursing, pounding through her whenever that godforsaken vampire touched her... Sometimes all it took was one glance. And how he knew her, how he scoured her, nestled deep and...
Okay, this is going in the wrong direction, she stopped herself. Let's tone it down.
She headed into the twelfth cemetery, stretching and having a look around. It seemed quiet, but then it always did right before midnight. She sat down on a headstone with a sigh.
"Adam," she muttered. "He's taking all the fun out of this place."
"Let's see if we can bring some of it back," a deep voice stated behind her and she smiled, looking to the skies.
"I was so hoping for that response," she said before rising and facing the... eight vampires slowly spreading out before her.
She cocked an eyebrow. There were two fledglings, she could tell by their imitation of bad-ass glares. The leader, however, seemed strong. She had taken on worse odds than this, and she wasn't worried. There was only a tremor of adrenaline that pulled through her and she squared her shoulders, steadying herself for the fight.
Three of them moved forward. She blocked a punch from the first, kicked her leg up and hit the second in the head while she shot an arm out and had her hand connect with the third's chest so hard it flew backwards. She pulled herself together, then jumped up in the air, delivering an awesome strike to the fourth attacker's chin. Landing she dropped to the ground, rolled around and put both her feet in the stomach of the fifth.
Her breathing was deliberate and controlled, but they were coming on fast, and as the weakest ones of course had been those chosen to lead the assault, she was now figuring that the three remaining wouldn't be as easy to handle. She reached for her stake... and froze.
It was gone.
Not possible.
Couldn't be happening.
Damn!
She drew a breath and had an instant-long search of her surroundings. Anything. Anything!
She ducked, reached up her arms and grabbed the swinging arm of the sixth vamp, pushing it up and then pulling it out of its socket before she swept its legs away from under it. It screamed with dull pain, clawing at its shoulder. She faced the others, and soon they came at her at once.
She spun around again, hitting two of them on the cheek and then kicking her foot into a third's face before she changed her leg, advancing the spin to go the whole team around. Then two hands grabbed her roughly around the ankle, stopped the spin mid-turn and flipped her over, making her do a full somersault through the air before she landed hard on her stomach, getting the wind completely knocked out of her.
"That's right," the leader growled and she felt his foot place itself between her shoulder blades, pushing her further into the dirt. "Crawl, Slayer. Soon that's all you'll be doing. You'll hail our race, bitch."
"Really?" she coughed. "Thought you were about to put an end to my misery."
"We'll feed," the vampire stated and she felt sudden dread fill her. "And when you're almost dry you'll be like everybody else. You'll choose our side. I bet you'll even cry."
She could hear it smirking, and began to estimate how difficult it could be to snake out of its grip, just when a voice said:
"Should never bet on a sure lose, mate."
She had to smile.
"What took you?" she asked. "Or were you watching from the sidelines?"
"You really don't think very much of me, do you?" Spike wondered. "Think I'd enjoy seeing you grovel?"
"Do you mind?" the leader asked. "We're sorta in the middle of something here."
"Sir," one of the fledglings said, "that's Spike."
The leader raised its eyebrows, turning his head to the bleached blonde.
"You're Spike?"
"One and the same," Spike replied, throwing the fag he'd had between his lips to the side, hooking his thumbs in his belt and eyeing the leader. "And may I ask who you think you are?"
The leader merely smirked.
"Excuse me," Buffy said from her awkward position. "Really not very comfortable here."
"I'll snap her spinal cord right now," the leader said, ignoring her, eyes on Spike. "Wanna hear it crack?"
"I'm sure you know I do."
Spike approached him slowly, Buffy feeling the pressure on her back increasing for every step. There was a pause, and then the sound of knuckles meeting flesh, an oomph of surprise as the pressure was released and then a growl in aggravation.
"What the hell are you doing!" the leader exclaimed.
There was no reply as Buffy easily got to her feet. Spike looked over his shoulder at her and she met his gaze, affirming that she was alright. He smiled a little, and she returned it, truly thankful. He held up her stake and then tossed it to her.
"Should hang on to that, love," he remarked.
"So I was growing painfully aware," she quipped and his smile widened right before a blow was delivered to his chin.
She moved forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with him as they surveyed the surrounding threat. It began to come at them in waves, both of them fighting the vampires off furiously. Buffy slaying two quite easily, but the pattern kept changing; the vamps were faster, well-trained, focused. Buffy got hit in the side and then she felt Spike's hand grab her lower arm, turning her around to face him and pulling her close. She stared up at him, but his gaze was focused on the approaching vampires. His other hand took hold of her free wrist and then he turned her around again, bringing her arms up as she did a semi-twirl. She kicked up her leg, the charging vampire flying backwards. Spike kicked out one of his legs at the same time and once it was done he spun her around for a second time, sweepingly dipping her and her foot kicked up, connecting with the chin of another vamp.
Now she smiled with sudden delight and he smirked, getting her up and swirling her around, her hand holding the stake now free and as she took a step out, her eyes in his, one hand linked with his hand, the stake sunk through the ribcage of the approaching fiend. Spike let her go, meeting a punch and then wringing the demon's neck easily. When he turned around Buffy was dusting her fourth. That left three. One of them was already backing away and when the leader noticed it, it growled a warning. But it was too late, the two allies it had left, turned and ran for their un-lives.
Buffy and Spike faced the leader.
"Well," he said, "this didn't go as planned."
"You guys never learn that it never does, do you?" Buffy sighed, taking a tighter hold on her weapon.
"Sorry about the foot-in-the-back before... was just showing who's boss, you know."
"All high and mighty," Buffy nodded. "Perfectly understandable. So, in light of that - ..." she threw her stake straight into its heart, crossing her arms over her chest as she finished, "no hard feelings, I hope."
Spike looked at her and she turned her head to him, smiling a little sheepishly. He returned it.
"Look at you, all knight-in-... leather duster," she said.
"Yeah, well, I find the shining armor loses its charm fairly quickly."
"Really?"
"Oh, yeah. Heavy, loud, in constant need of oil."
"Oh, God, yes. Leather is definitively the way to go," she nodded and he smirked again. "Look..."
"I know," he stopped her, his gaze soft. "Trust me... I know."
He turned to leave and she felt something object too hard not to act on it, and so she said:
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it."
"But I want to... mention it," she said, making him face her once more. "I want to say that I never would've pictured us... I mean, that you and I would be standing on this spot and me feeling all this need to let you know how much it means to me that you care enough to..." She trailed off and he cocked an eyebrow. "Look, I never said thanks for saving me... and keeping me safe. I know you only did it to keep yourself safe, but... 'Cause you did... didn't you?"
He kept his eyes in hers as he approached her, stopping right before her. Then he answered gently:
"Yes."
The blacks and blues and grays around them slowly bled into each other, creating a meaningless murmur as a backdrop to the emotions that were sharp as knives within her. The adrenaline still pumping seductively through her, the desire his form this close to her set aflame now spreading within. But then his hands tenderly placed themselves on either side of her face and a different kind of longing appeared. One where she wanted him. Just him.
She put one hand up, covering one of his and then looking up at him.
She saw a reflection in his eyes of the flare of pain she felt in that moment. For him.
And then he gingerly let his hands fall away. She felt tears rise and she looked away from him, feeling ashamed. Like she was mocking him with displaying any feeling, when she couldn't reciprocate his.
"How could you love me?" she asked, not wanting to sound bitter, but that was what she was.
It was all such a waste.
"How could I not?" he retorted and the waste was no longer apparent.
The way he looked at her sent shivers through her, of sympathy... and subtle joy. She tried to suppress the latter, but this time it didn't work.
"You should stop telling me you do," she murmured.
"Then you should stop bringing it up," he shot, turning to leave again.
"Spike."
"Just... let me go, Slayer," he said. "If you can't bloody deal... let me go."
And with that, he went. She stood there, feeling abandoned and lonely and very, very small.
¤
Spike emptied the beer bottle he held in one hand before pushing the door of the crypt open. He wasn't drunk. He wasn't anything. He wanted to get the chip out. Maybe that was what had changed him. Maybe all this humanity would disappear as soon as the wretched piece of metal was out of his skull. And then he'd be gone. He'd leave it all behind. She'd be nothing but a memory, a fading picture amongst all those others. A face like all the rest.
He stopped in the middle of the floor, feeling helpless. Cursing himself he straightened his posture and then he paused, knitting his brow and turning his head to the side. A match was struck against the side of its box and the flame lit up the features he had come to know too well.
"What're you doing here?" he muttered as she put the flame to a candle.
"Waiting," she muttered back.
"For what?"
"For any of all this to make sense. It doesn't."
"You're preaching to the choir, pet."
She put the candle down, and then came up to him, looking him over before reaching out a hand and taking the bottle from him, putting it on the floor at their feet before she straightened her back again, resting her eyes in his.
"I don't wanna fight with you," she said. "It's tiring." He finally smiled tentatively, she returned it. "I'm calling a truce."
His eyebrows rose.
"This is serious, Slayer."
"I know it is," she nodded. "And I know you're leaving. But tonight showed me something... about you and me... that we work... in a fight. You once said that killing things is what we do best. Guess you were right." She smiled tryingly. "And with Adam and with the slaying part you're playing, sorta makes you part of the gang..."
"Does it?"
"Note the 'sorta'. And all this staying away from each other and not pretending we're there when we are, isn't working as well as I promised myself it would, 'cause you always show up where I am."
"Likewise," he pointed out dryly. "So what are you saying?"
"I'm saying... civilized interaction. I'm saying... polite conversation. I'm saying... shaking of hands that we agree and then we just..."
She shrugged and he smirked before reaching out a hand. She took it firmly, gaze in his. Then she smiled.
"Okay," she said.
"Okay. Truce. Should be interesting."
"Shouldn't it?"
"I think it already is."
"Me too. It's there. Being... interesting."
She glanced at their hands, still holding onto each other, and then they slowly let go.
"Okay," she repeated. "It's late..."
"It's morning," he corrected.
"So it is. You should sleep."
"I was going to."
"Of course you were. So I'll do a bit of the ske and slap on some daddle. Get out of your head. Hair! I don't think I'm in your head. I mean, I get that I might be... a little. But that I'm not there most of the time. Like when you're going to bed you're not thinking of me, you're thinking 'bed'." An eyebrow slowly rose at that and she laughed. "Yeah, this is so gonna work."
And with that she slipped out the door.
He smiled to himself. Then it faded as he wondered to what bed she was going.
¤
Buffy slept for half of the Saturday. It was well-earned rest and when she woke up she felt truly revived. She had made a date with Riley at three o'clock by their favorite tree and at three o'clock sharp she was there, looking her prettiest – or so she hoped. He linked their hands together and they walked up to a bench, having a seat.
He chuckled and she frowned, wondering.
"I was thinking about that night. Remember? When I saw you sitting here alone and I tried to get you to leave, and then you tried to get me to leave."
She smiled.
"I remember," she said, then she also remembered why she had been sitting there and her smile grew set as she looked at her free hand, fidgeting with the pattern on her skirt.
She had been acting as bate that night. For Spike.
"So, did anything fun happen in the..." she began, then rolled her eyes as she added: "Oh, I killed that one; I don't know which state Iowa is. Is it the Mayflower state?"
"Do we have a Mayflower state?"
"Maybe we don't. I always mix them up anyway."
He smiled widely at that, running one hand through her hair as he replied:
"Nothing overly fun happened in the Mayflower state. My mom made her famous pie and uncle Ron came over with homemade ice cream and we sat on the porch watching the sun go down..."
"Sounds very un-fun," she smirked, moving closer and putting her head on his shoulder. "I'm glad I didn't have to come."
He smiled at that, hugging her tight.
¤
"And pour toi, mademoiselle, we have a very fine connoisseur-ish sort of marshmallow, brought here by the very fine people of..." Jonathan read off the bag, and then continued: "Wisconsin. It is white, it is fluffy..."
"It isn't popcorn," Calor chimed in, making Ath's smile widen even more.
"And most importantly, it is unhealthily sweet and melts on your tongue. Enjoy."
Jonathan finished to applause from Ath, who then reached out and grabbed one of the marshmallows, nicely placed on a plate. She popped one in her mouth and soon she showed her approval.
"I knew you'd like that," Jonathan smirked.
"I'm going to take a nap," Calor yawned, Jonathan raising an eyebrow.
"Late night?"
"Oh, don't jump to conclusions; he spent the time discussing fine art with Joyce. Really, Cale, how you're able to cram all that into your brain and have yet to learn the subtleties of different kinds of chocolate, completely eludes me."
"I guess it's a shame we're twins, then," he shot and she made a face as he exited into the hallway.
"I like him," Jonathan said and Ath rolled her eyes, which made him smile.
Cale walked up the stairs.
He hadn't been able to get the look on Buffy's face out of his head ever since she left him the day before. She was so torn up inside. So was he. These emotions were so new to him, and they scared him because he didn't understand why he hadn't been able to anticipate them; to anticipate this situation ultimately occurring by his playing with the Slayer's devotion and beliefs. She doubted herself now. And all he could think of was how he could find a solution to the problems he'd caused her. Ease the pain.
How? he wondered. How can I ever?
The burden was getting heavier.
He wished so badly that he could make her see why he had done it, what he had thought it would bring her, and tell her he was sorry for having been so blind. So reckless with a fate that wasn't his own; but which had been entrusted to him to care for. He was frightened that, by doing what he had done, he had ripped it apart.
He had spoken to Buffy about history. What really mattered was her future. She had no idea what was coming, what so many had spoken was supposed to come. Angel had only been a prologue, had been the key to open a lock deep down inside her, make her experience love as true and real as it could possibly be. Because she had to have that knowledge. She would come to need it, and the compassion which came with it. But now... perhaps he had ruined it. Ruined her. Or ruined it for her. For them both. Brought the Slayer and her champion nothing but raw pain, and a love that would never be recognized for what it was.
The young god leaned against the wall of Buffy's room, looking around and remembering watching her move into it. He had guarded her, as he had those before her. But she had had an aura surround her that had always gotten to him in a different way. He had seen what good she would do.
But her stubbornness had aggravated him. Her reluctance to see what a gift she had been given, what a wonder the responsibility she was under actually was. How it would make her grow and set her in a space reserved for none but those of her lineage. That she couldn't grasp that had, in a way, felt like a slap in the face.
When she made the wish, he had seen a chance to grant it and perhaps make her realize how much she had her powers to thank for. See the worth of her title. The facts he knew of the Slayer and the Vamp had made him sure that it wouldn't hurt them, or what lay ahead, if they happened to befriend each other a little sooner. Alright, a lot sooner, but still, it hadn't seemed like such a bad idea. Or incentive, rather. Or perhaps it had been more like a moment of spontaneous inspiration.
"I regret it," he murmured, picking up a framed picture of Buffy. "But you'll never know, will you?"
¤
Five hours later, and across town and a bit farther, Riley was watching Buffy getting ready for patrol. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and chose her leather coat, putting it on and turning to him with a smile.
"Alright," she said. "What's with the look?"
"I'm happy," he replied. "You've made me happy."
"Little ole me?"
He smiled as well, sitting up from where he had been lying on her bed and she sat down next to him.
"Sure you don't want me to come with you?" he wondered and she nodded.
"Offer appreciated, but I'm on a one-girl mission tonight. I need to go extra stealthy; and not to be harsh, honey, but you'd crowd me. I'm sorry."
He smiled a little again.
"Don't worry," he assured. "Just understand that I won't ride the backseat every night. I can hold my own out there."
She kissed him gently at that.
"I know," she then said. "It's just a stakeout, nothing big."
"So let me come."
"Riley," she murmured, growing serious.
He grumbled, getting to his feet and she did as well. Then he wrapped his arms around her.
"Just come back to me," he mumbled.
She closed her eyes, holding onto him and promising herself she wouldn't let him down ever again. They had spent a great afternoon together. Talking and laughing and finally having things feel like they did before. Because they did finally feel exactly like before. It was as though the past few weeks had never happened. And she was very relieved.
She left the dorm, and the campus, and arrived in Sunnydale center heading passed the shops, the familiar spots and straight for a well-known cemetery. She had been debating the thought of what she was about to do. She had raised questions about moral and honesty and in the end she had decided that, no matter what happened beyond this point, she needed to do this.
She slowly approached his crypt, crouching down in the darkness of a cluster of trees and waiting. She sat perfectly still for nearly forty-five minutes and then the door opened. She felt her concentration sharpen as she watched him step through it.
He began walking and soon she followed, keeping a distance she knew was safe. Or at least hoped was safe from him noticing her presence. He was smoking. Like a chimney. As usual. So annoying. He flitted the cigarette away and she furrowed her brow in dislike.
That can start a fire, she thought reproachfully. Now, where are you going?
They walked for twenty minutes, the Slayer seeing no sign whatsoever that the vampire sensed her in any way. The outskirts of Sunnydale were passing by when he took a left and was out of sight. She swore silently, then softly treaded the pavement, moving closer to the wall of the building behind which he had disappeared, before she slowed down, carefully edging nearer to the corner. She stopped as she heard muffled voices, and as she couldn't make them out properly she forced herself up to the corner and peaked around it.
"This is worth a helluva lot more than that," Spike said, beginning to put a parcel back into his coat.
Buffy's eyes involuntarily widened and then she took in the demon he was doing business with. It was small and thin, looked almost like a weasel. It now squeaked its disapproval of the merchandise being brought out of reach and Spike raised his eyebrows.
"Five hundred, mate, and not a penny less."
The weasel seemed terribly aggravated as it began to dig around in its long fur coat for the cash. It brought up a wad of folded bills and Spike snatched them out of its grasp before throwing it the parcel. It caught it and clutched it protectively, glaring at the vampire, who merely smirked and put two fingers to his forehead before flaring them out as a farewell salute, heading back the way he'd come.
Buffy felt her heart stop, looking around and then up for some means of retreat. She saw a fire escape fifteen feet up. Bending her knees she took aim and then flung herself straight up, her hands catching the cold metal of the rail. She swung herself up easily and landed silently before pressing herself to the wall. She watched him pass below her and narrowed her eyes, her gaze following him as he continued down the street.
A few moments later she jumped over the rail and reached the pavement with a low thump, continuing forward almost instantly and being just in time to catch the weasel by the thick collar of its coat. Its eyes grew wide with terror.
"Tor," it sputtered, shivering in her grasp. "Tor nethak sssorr!"
"I have no idea what you just said, but if it was anywhere near 'Don't hurt me' all I can say is sorry," she replied, pushing it back and it stumbled, cowering rather pathetically.
"Pleassse," it hissed. "What do you whishhhh?"
"Oh, God, nothing. No wishes expressed from me. Ever. Again," she answered, then added: "But I want to see what you just bought. And after you show it to me and explain exactly what you need it for – I have a few more questions. Answer them, and I'll let you run. If you ever come back..."
"Never, Vampire Sssslayer," the weasel bowed its head. "Your rulesss apply, I shhhall abide."
She cocked an eyebrow at that.