Lisa suddenly felt drained. With slurping steps she dragged her tired body towards the round chamber, put the torch back into its holding and then sat down on the floor to gather her strength. Spike followed her example. He sat down opposite of her, leaning casually against the wall.
She just stared ahead for a while without really thinking anything. Her mind seemed to be filled with monotonous buzzing. There was something she needed to do, but she couldn't quit put her finger on it. Suddenly it came to her. They were trapped inside here, they needed back up. She pulled her mobile phone from her pocket and pushed a number on speed dial.
"What are you doing now?"
"Calling Angel," she informed him curtly.
"And how exactly is this going to help?" he sounded a tad bit irritated.
"Sssh," she motioned him with her hand to be quiet, "Yeah, Harmony it's me. I have to talk to Angel. No, it can't wait. It's urgent. No, don't put me on hold. Don't! Can you believe this she actually put me on hold!" Lisa looked at Spike incredulously. A few second passed, "Angel? Great! We're in kind of a situation right here….yes. There were to many of them. Yeah, we're fine….Right…Okay, we'll wait. It's not like we would be going anywhere, sitting around in this crypt. It's the one with the drooling ghouls in front…just in case you wondered," she switched the telephone of and stuffed it back inside her pocket.
"Didn't go as expected?"
"He'll get to us eventually. Seems we're not his top priority right now. Sounded busy," Lisa answered grumpily.
"Figured as much," he mumbled between clenched teeth.
Silence settled inside the crypt and no sound could be heard except for the loud bounding against the metal door that came in regular intervals. It echoed in the round chamber whenever the ghouls made a new attempt to forcefully enter Spike's and Lisa's hideout.
"Wanna talk?" Spike suggested after a while.
"What about?"
He let out an ironic snort. By now he had gotten to know her quite well. It was the same old routine then, not that he minded, actually it was sort of fun. First there came stubborn, then irritated ( that was the phase he liked the most, because she was actually very cute, when she got all huffy and angry. Not that he would ever tell her...mind you. He didn't fancy a stake through the heart) and finally when she was done with fuming they would talk it out.
"Just in case your short term memory failed you, we were just about to make up when that bloody poof called," he said, while he rummaged in his pockets to finally produced a single fag. He lit it with a content grin on his face. Spike blew out the smoke and watched the bluish mist curl and change form with the strange satisfaction of having created something.
"I didn't forget," came the monosyllabic response. "Toss me a cigarette, will you?" Lisa added in an afterthought.
"I thought you didn't smoke," he looked at her with a raised eyebrow, but nevertheless complied with her request. He got up and walked over to her in his trademark stride. His boots came to a halt a few centimetres from her feet. Spike lowered himself to a crouching position, so that they were on eye level.
"Open up," he ordered like one would do with a child which was about to be fed a spoonful of medicine and put the cigarette between her lips. He fumbled with his lighter, then briefly hesitated.
"Please, don't get all moral high ground on me. I've already had my fair share of second-hand-smoke tonight, so I might as well…" her green eyes sparkled at him challengingly.
"I won't," he put away the lighter and flipped his own half smoked cigarette away nonchalantly, as if his gesture meant nothing. "I know what this is really about…" Spike said finally. His eyes fixed her in a severe gaze. At moments like this it sometimes came to her that he was significantly older than her.
"Oh, so you're going to enlighten me otherwise. Go ahead," she put the cigarette behind her ear.
"I haven't said I'm sorry yet. That's what gets you of your hooker, isn't it, pet?"
"Maybe," she avoided his gaze, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.
"In other words yes…," he paused, "I want you to look at me when I tell you this, guess that's not that much to ask."
"Alright," she nodded and suddenly felt very fragile, when her eyes met his. Did she mention she loved his eyes? No matter how bad-ass he pretended to be, there was always something in them that let you guess how loving and kind he could be. They sometimes made her melt which was really bad, especially when she was angry at him. He wouldn't have to say anything at all and she would forgiven him, just because he looked at her in a certain way.
"I'm sorry I hurt you by running off without telling you…really am…"
"I know," Lisa sighed, "but still…it's not so much that you did it, but why…"
"You think I did it because of Buffy." She didn't like the way the name rolled from his lips. It sounded as if he had said it many times. Too many.
He laughed self-ironically. "Never thought I'd say it, but I did it because of Angel. I didn't want him to get his happily ever after. First there's this prophecy that says he gets to be a real boy again and then I was supposed to let him rid off into the sunset with Buffy – speaking figuratively, of course. Not that I would mind seeing him light up like a torch…"
"So you're trying to say you did it, because you were jealous of Angel. Funny, but somehow I don't quite believe you," her eyes narrowed dangerously.
"I didn't understand back then," he looked desperate. Maybe he was having trouble expressing himself.
"What the hell didn't you understand? What!" her level of irritation was constantly rising. "That you would hurt me by simply running off without so much as a word? That I'd think that you chose her over me?" By the time the last words escaped her lips she was almost screaming.
She could tell from the expression on his face, that he was now realizing how much he had hurt her by his actions. His eyes briefly widened, displaying a mixture of shock and disbelief and when he spoke his voice sounded softer than usually, "I didn't understand that it is you…not her. I didn't never feel like this with her. Buffy and I…well…we were like two pieces of a puzzle that wouldn't quiet fit together, but were nevertheless pieced together by a sledgehammer. Everything was complicated, painful, slightly surreal and on top of that self-destructive. Funny it took a big bang to make me figure that out, but I usually am little slow on the uptake. I actually lay there in a Roman piazza my body covered in bruises, my duster torn to shreds and all I could think about was how much I missed you...the way I feel when I'm with you..."
Lisa gulped nervously. In the meantime her anger had dissipated, because the way he talked didn't leave any doubts about how serious he meant those things he said. "And how exactly is that?" she finally asked shakily.
He scratched the back of his neck embarrassedly, "If I could find the right words for that I'd actually be a bloody good poet…Oh what the hell! Since I've already started making a fool of myself why not go all the way…," he smiled humourlessly.
"I've always been love's bitch. It's not like it was somebody else's fault, though it would be lovely if I had someone to blame…some mystical higher power…or at least Dru or Buffy…but let's face it, a bloke who always fell hard for the unattainable ones…telltale case…not exactly predestined to find happiness."
"I thought I had it all figured out…hell, I even thought, falling on my ass for a couple of times, would have made me some expert when it came to love, but guess what - it didn't. I had all those ideas about how it was supposed to work in a certain way, screaming in your blood and working its will. Yeah, right!" Spike let out a snort. "Not even close…," his voice lowered and his eyes wandered of pensively. He always liked to think that he had his way with words, but at this time they failed him. He was still wrecking his head about what to say, when he heard her speak.
"You just know when it happens," Lisa said softly, ripping him out of his thoughts. "You know when you're being loved, because there's this comfort, this feeling of belonging somewhere, of being understood…and at the same time the knowledge of how fragile this all is. That it could it end all too soon and hurt like you never imagined."
"Yes, and you know, when it's real."
"Do you?" she cocked her head and looked at him. Her eyes had a gentle sparkle in them, friendly…patient.
"Yes, I know that this is what I always wanted," his voice sounded hoarse.
"Good," she smiled at him in relief and he couldn't help, but mirror her expression. Nevertheless the situation was slightly awkward. It had been a long time since he felt unsure of himself, because his characteristic cockiness was usually quick to kick in. Not this time. It seemed so long since they last kissed, but he couldn't just do it…maybe it would be too bold a move…too soon. In some ways it was like starting all over again.
Lisa saw the pensive frown on his face and could instantly tell that he was probably thinking about what to do next. This was so unlike of him, but she understood he wanted to do everything right this time. She decided to deliver him from this feeling of uncertainty and took his hand. Almost instantly her fingers entwined with his like they had done so many times before. They did it as if out of their own accord, craving the touch of his hand that was so comforting and familiar. As she slowly pulled him close she could see a mixture of surprise and happiness on his face.
"To make up probably you'd have to kiss me first," Lisa smiled at him teasingly, her face now so close to his that their noses almost touched.
Before he closed the distance between them, he gave her the sort of grin that was so characteristic of him, sexy and yet boyish. It never failed to make her skin tingle. They kissed passionately, with a hunger that had been kindled by the time of abstinence. Their lips met and separated again and again, welcoming, teasing, maddening. Her hands wandered over his back to his shoulders. She pulled him yet closer, while her lips parted to let him in. Hot met cool, soft caresses, an ancient dance that was never over.
The loud banging against the door brought them back to the present. It had increased in intervals and had also gotten more vehement. They broke apart and looked at the door in alarm. The two crosses that had up to now served as makeshift doorstoppers were starting to shift - slowly, but yet unstoppably.