Tara's eyes started to flutter open, the feeling of a rough tongue on her cheek, coupled with a soft humming noise it made her giggle sleepily. Popping open one eye she found herself looking into a pair of blue eyes. Kitten eyes. "Huh?"
She slowly rolled over and looked at the time. 5:30. Rubbing her eyes and taking a closer look at the clock it was PM. How the heck? She couldn't remember the last time she slept this long, surely someone would have woken her up by now…
Taking a deep breath Tara looked over at the kitten and everything from the night before came crashing down over her – much like the migraine she was experiencing.
Spike…tequila…kittens…poker…kissing…kissing Spike.
"Oh god." She put her hand over her face unable to believe what happened or what had been said. What had been done; she couldn't believe she had even asked him to…
With a start she sat straight up, pulling the sheet up to her chest; her wide eyes darted around the room looking for Spike. "S-Spike?" Tara groaned at the sound of her own voice, it vibrated in her ears and made her head throb even worse. There wasn't any sign of Spike anywhere.
Tara shifted in the bed and heard wrinkling; turning her head slowly she saw one of the kittens attacking a piece of paper. After some wrestling Tara managed to get the now mangled paper from its grasp.
Tara,
Be round tomorrow night to help you take those sodding :unreadable: shelter.
Thanks for the whiskey and...t :unreadable:
Spike.
Whiskey and what? We…we didn't right…
Her eyes widened again and she looked down and saw that she was wearing clothes. Not that it meant anything. Clothing doesn't mean someone did or didn't. It just mean's they're covered up. Covered up is good.
Did we…but I'd remember…wouldn't I?
Tara ran her fingers through her hair and placed her elbows on her knees, her mind slowly running over everything that had happened the night before.
There had been drinking. Beating Spike and his friends at poker. More drinking. More poker. Then kissing. She had asked him to stay only because she didn't want to be alone. He agreed, there was kissing; a lot of it and then…
Scrunching her nose Tara tried to remember what had happened. Bits of conversation came floating back to her consciousness; it all seemed almost like a nightmare.
Dim cow…would've taken what I wanted from your body and left you lying in the dirt…
Liar.
…she'd never ever look at you for anything more then a punching bag. Saw you as a monster. But I don't. I don't see you like that Spike.
…No matter how much you try you will never be able to kill William. Never…
…You and I are alike Spike. Except you have the ability to act it out. I don't…
Tara swallowed hard and her face went pale. She said all that to him and it amazed her that she was still alive. He didn't rip her to shreds or have one of his demon friends do it?
Taking a deep breath she decided it was time to move and with painful slowness she got out of the bed and walked over to the dresser. Looking over it, she tried as quietly as possible to find an herb that her mother had used many times before in her fathers coffee the morning after his poker nights.
"There you are." She smiled slightly, feeling a small bit of relief wash over her. Tara set it on the dresser, grabbing some clothes, slowly making her way into the bathroom to shower and get dressed. The sun was almost down and Spike would be here soon like he said.
Tara wasn't so sure she was ready for that just yet.
Tara still couldn't believe what had gone on, she couldn't believe that she had actually called him William to his face…and she still hada pulse.
Looking in the bathroom mirror, she blushed when she started to remember finding out about Spike's human past. She remembered reading the Watchers diary on him – several times actually. His poetry on first read left something to be desired, but if you wrote it and you looked past the slightly jumbled words and tried to get into the real meaning – they were beautiful. Poet's words that spoke to a poet's heart.
She coveted those poems. Not even Willow ever knew that Tara read them, let alone liked them.
After her shower she started getting dressed, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror and it made her gasp. Her upper thighs were covered in bruises from his hands. Taking a deep breath she pulled on a pair of jeans, wincing when they brushed against the bruise. Tara slipped on a long sleeved Old Navy shirt before brushing her damp hair out. She looked into the mirror and decided she looked semi-presentable, aside from the tribal drums in her head.
Slipping on a pair of shoes, she leaned over and picked up the kitten that had given her the wake up call, along with the herb for her coffee, before heading down the stairs.
Tara paused by Dawn's door. "Dawnie?" she whispered, peaking into the younger girl's room and saw no sign of her. That's odd, it's late and she's usually here around now, she would have woken me up too. Sighing, Tara made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen to put onsome coffee. She'd rather tea but that's what the herb needed to be in and if she was going to get rid of this hangover then she had to deal.
The one thing Tara wasn't sure she could handle was seeing Spike now. She had made a fool of herself, not to mention she said and did things that she should have never said. She wasn't entirely sure what possessed her to act the way she did the night before.
Grief was the only answer she could think of.
Sighing softly she sat on the stool in the kitchen, idly stirring her coffee and wondering if she'd ever be able to be friends with Spike now.
Spike was surprised he hadn't worn a groove into the floor of the crypt with all the pacing he'd done since he left Tara back at the house. His mind was filled with her face and all of the talking she'd done.
When he first got home he was pissed off… unbelievably pissed off actually. The thought of going back there and setting her straight, about all of it, it was pride and…hell, he didn't even know what it was. It was wrong, he was wrong.
I see a man when I look at you, I see someone that wouldn't have killed me in the alley as you claim because you couldn't bear to do it.
She was right.
Spike didn't want her to be right, he simplycouldn't have done it. She was right. This wasn't the first time he'd thought about what he'd do if he had the chip out; but could he really go back to what he was? He'd been reined in so long it seemed like a distant memory.
The idea of being stuck like this – in limbo – was almost maddening to him.
In the early days he would spend every waking minute fantasizing about all of the things he could do and who he'd do it to first when the chip was finally gone. Those fantasies revolved mostly around having his way with Buffy, in every sense of the phrase, but after a while – when she finally let him in just a little – those thoughts nearly stopped.
The urge to feed was still there, there were some nights that it consumed him. He'd be out and see a girl walk by in a short skirt and the urges would come back so fast it nearly drowned him. He'd barely be able to think of anything else because of it; but there was something else too – buried under the need – a sort of nagging feeling. He would imagine the girl, the things he'd do to her and instead of feeling pleasure Spike's stomach would turn. The only way he figured out how to cure that was heading out to Willie's and beating up a demon or two to forget. He always thought it was the chip, that he'd been conditioned like a dog.
But what if she was right?
"No matter how much you try you will never be able to kill William. Never Spike, you can kill and try to hurt people from now till the world really does fade away. But he'll always be there."
Spike feared that it was his humanity coming to the surface…
That thought did its share of stomach turning, but maybe…maybe that was all down to the conditioning too, except a different kind, of course. When Dru first turned him all he wanted was her, to love her, spoil her and treat her like a princess. Feeding was athrill and a necessity but he took more pleasure in being with her than he did hurting other people. They were all meaningless to him, nothing more than a meal.
Love, that's what he still carried with him when Dru first turned him and she knew it as soon as he turned his own mother. He did that out of compassion, but Dru said it was out of weakness and he believed her; she was his Sire after all. After that he started to bury all of his feelings, all of them, except the ones he had for her…even some of them while Angelus was still lording over them.
But what if he was right back where he started?
No feelings? Tara was right, he was kidding himself, he always felt more than was considered 'proper' for a vampire. Angelus, Darla and most of the time even Dru didn't care about anything that happened, anything they did. But Spike always had, he always felt something. They said it was a weakness, hell even Buffy implied it…
"You use that chip as a crutch. You don't want people to know that you've managed to do something that Angel could never do without a soul. Control the demon."
But Tara? She didn't.
Pulling away from his reverie, he glanced out of the tiny window high up on the crypt's wall finding himself gazing up at the stars. He hadn't even noticed that it was nightfall already and he remembered that Tara would be expecting him. He promised to help her with the kittens but…the idea of going back there now filled him with dread.
When Spike thought about her he realized he was getting those old familiar feelings in the pit of his stomach, the one that told him he was heading for trouble with this girl. But what he was really afraid of was that she'd tell him to leave and never come back. He had enough enemies and friends were so hard to come by now.
He opened the door to the crypt, pulling his jacket on and heading towards the house, hoping she would tell him to get lost because it would make his life easier. But the other part of him hoped to whatever God that would listen to a prayer from a demon that she'd invite him in and let him stay forever.
Spike knew then he was in big trouble.
Tara was drinking her third cup of coffee and hangover herb, she was fully deep in thought when she heard a tap on the door. The knock sounded hesitant and she wondered if they had the right address.
Biting her lip she tilted her head towards the back door, trying to get a view of the figure behind it. She couldn't see through the curtains so she stood and tentatively went to the door.
Before Tara even reached to pull the curtain back she knew who it was, she could never forget that scent, it was all over her sheets and clothes she woke up in.
Spike.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath to calm the emotions running through her; the biggest emotions being fear and confusion. Something had happened last night, something clicked…
Last night was last night. It was over. It was a mistake.
Tara knew she was just his drunken excuse for Buffy and he was a way for her not to feel numb and alone.
All she felt was guilt now, so much so her heart hurt because of what happened. It was too soon after she lost Willow; her lover's body wasn't even cold…
No. It was cold. She remembered, she remembered the feel of Willow's skin when she held onto her as best she could as Xander carried her from the woods. The reality that Tara was alone in the world again weighed down on her like a brick.
Tara's thoughts were broken when she heard the door again, this time more insistent; almost impatient. Taking a deep breath, she gathered all her courage that she had to open the door. Spike stood on the other side, leaning against the door surrounded by cigarette smoke, the only sound was his heel grinding his snubbed out butt into the wood of the porch.
She didn't wait for him to enter, she simply nodded and turned back to sit on one of the island stools to finish her coffee. She dug her heels into the rung on the stool and looked intently at the bottom of her cup, looking at it as if it held all the answers she needed. She wished it were that easy, she didn't have any answers.
Spike stood there for a moment, watching Tara as she moved almost painfully back to her seat. His stomach twisted at the sight of her, the urge to smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Even in her current very hung-over state he thought she was beautiful. It was then he knew he was in trouble and there was no denying it this time.
"Thought maybe you'd decided to skip town after all," he blurted out, walking in as she paid no attention to him. He knew it was going to be awkward but he didn't think it would be this awkward. Well, unless Xander was there to protect her and throw his apparently evil self out.
"Thought you didn't want me to leave..." she whispered, not looking up from her cup.
He frowned and muttered, "Didn't mean it like-" Stopping mid sentence he found himself glancing down the hall and listening for any signs of life in the rest of the house, after a moment he concluded that it was just the two of them – again. His stomach twisted at the realization, nothing good ever came out of them being alone together and he knew he didn't want yet another fight.
"So, where are the little buggers, then?" he said, digging his hands into his pockets as he glanced around for the kittens. "Got their catnip packed and all that?"
Taking the final sip of her coffee she stood and brought it to the sink to rinse it out. "You don't pack catnip if you want them to stay calm and quiet." She spoke with the same even tone, her insides so confused and filled with emotion she couldn't name what they were anymore.
Spike flinched slightly at the coldness of her tone, she had an ice queen feeling about her that made him remember a dark haired cheerleader from back in the old days…
He knew she was regretting what happened but it stung that she wouldn't look at him. But maybe it was a blessing, he knew what happened when he looked into her eyes.
Tara wiped her hands on a dishtowel and looked up at him, she noticed his eyes and the scent that only he could make smell good – blood, leather and smoke – filled her senses.
No. No. Can't. That won't do. That can't. What is wrong with you, you whacked in the head Wicca! You just buried your girlfriend and now you're lusting after some dead vampire! Get a grip.
Taking a deep breath she ran her fingers through her hair and whimpered softly. "T-they're in the living room…They're all packed i-in an old case I h-had when w-w-we had Miss Kitty…"
Spike wasn't surprised by her business like tone, he couldn't blame her and the thought that he should apologize for last night crossed his mind. He was out of line; then again so was she and Tara was apparently not offering to kiss and make up.
Kiss.
'No, no bloody way. I wasn't going to think about that, what I was going to do was help her with these damn things, be glad she wasn't interested in me – in that way at least – and leave for good. Period. End of story.'
Spike found himself saying differently. "You okay, pet?" He always was a glutton for punishment.
Tara stopped short and Spike nearly collided with her, only stepping back when she spun around to face him, a mixture of rage and despair filling her eyes. That wasall she felt, that wasall she knew how to feel anymore. Not to forget confusion…lots of confusion. "You have the nerve to ask me that?" Her voice was quiet and emotionless because she didn't think she actually had emotions connectedto this…whatever this was. "I'm fine," she finally ground out before spinning on her heel and heading into the living room and grabbing one of the baskets of kittens and waiting for Spike to take the other. "There's a shelter down on Prescott. It's a no-kill shelter; they'll get to a good home there." Tara looked down and scratched one of the kittens head's. They were cute and sweet and the thought of keeping one crossed her mind; but she decided against it when she remembered what Dawn did to Miss Kitty.
Spike was quiet and Tara turned and looked over her shoulder, looking up at him. "W-what?" Her cheeks reddened as she started to remember bits of last night and what had happened. 'It was wrong, so very wrong. It was wrong because I liked it…'
"I…I have the nerve to ask if you're fine?" Spike shouted, disbelievingly. "What the bloody hell…?" His eyes widened. "Oh, sod this. I'm not staying around for this. You wanted my help with these little ferret-looking things so that's why you didn't throw me out as soon as I came over, but we both know it would've been a different story if you hadn't needed anything from me." His temper flared and he turned on his heel 'How dare she? After everything she said last night she should be apologizing to me!'
"You know you're a piece of work!" he shouted, turning from the doorway and glaring back at her. "Last night you were so convinced I had such deep feelings about every little thing. What? Did you just want to make me admit it so you could turn around and walk all over them?"
'Did I just say? Oh, bloody hell…'
"Bugger this," he spat and stalked to the back door. He'd had it, he was done being a doormat for women.
Tara stood there, unable to speak and finding herself flinching at his tone before she found her speech again. "Just because Cecily walked on you doesn't make every woman like that. In case you didn't notice Spike, I'm the one that gets trampled on."
The second that name left Tara's lips Spike stopped in his tracks, turning and facing her as she continued to talk. "Yes Spike, go on and run." She was muttering as she turned towards the stairs, deciding to let Xander take the kittens tomorrow; Spike could still hear her words. "Run away like you did that night at the party. Go off and run, it's what you do best isn't it? Except Dru won't be around to save you from yourself this time."
Spike knew a lot about rage, he'd lived with Angelus and Dru for over twenty years…but it hadbeen a long time since he'd been this mad. Everything inside him blurred until all he could see and hear were her words and in an instant he was in front of her, reaching out to grab her.
The momenthis hand wrapped around her upper arms he felt a shock like lightening hit him directly in the head. It was blinding and made him remember what getting hit with a two-by-four felt like. The pain only made Spike grip Tara's arms tighter and jerk her so hard so she slammed into the wall, crying out and causing the chip to go off again.
"Arrrghhh!" he cried out, the pain as the chip kept firing. "FUCK!" he screamed again, punching the wall as tears started streaming down his face. Even with all the pain, Spike's mind couldn't get off the fact of what Tara had said to him; he couldn't understand how she knew all of it and if she knew how she could say something like that to him…
The pain started to fade and Spike stood up, looking down at her clearly for the first time since the chip fired and he knew he must look like a wimp with red eyes – from the chip of course, not from anything she said. His hand tightened around her arms again, looking her straight in the eyes. "You know, I thought you had something," he sneered at her. "Thought you had strength or…I don't know, something that made you special. But I see it now; you're just the same as the rest of them, a nasty bitch," he spat, moving close enough to her that he could feel her body heat. "And people say I'm evil." Spike could see a flicker of hurt flash over her eyes and he only grinned wider.
"Don't ever talk about Dru, she was crazy and evil, but she never said anything like that to me." With that he turned and walked slowly towards the back door.
Tara gathered her strength and moved away from the wall, moving over towards the door and getting there before he did; there was nothing but fury in her eyes. Before she knew it Tara shoved Spike against the wall and into the hanging pot rack. "How dare you call me that. How dare you say those things to me. You think that because you're a neutered vampire you can make me feel small like him?" Her eyes narrowed and she got into his face; knowing at this point it was clear she'd lost her mind as her eyes finally met his. "I guess you don't like the truth, Spike. I thought you out of everyone were tired of lies."
Stepping back from him, Tara started to take slow, deep breaths as she slammed the door open, the knob hitting Spike in the gut. Her face didn't change – even though he could smell the smallest hint of fear – she didn't lose her footing and she knew she couldn't afford to. "Leave. I don't want to see you here. Ever. If I see you around here you will regret it. I will shove a soul so far up your…" Her jaw rotated in anger and her arms crossed over her chest, proving to him she was serious. "Leave. Now."
Spike stood there – speechless – and unsure of what to do. He knew he'd been threatened and after what happened with Angelus, he should know better than to piss someone off that had power and the ability to shove anything up his ass…let alone a soul. He couldn't seem to make his mouth form words, knowing he most likely looked like a fool as he stood there with his mouth open. All of this was from a girl who was half his size and had wounded him with words of all things. But it was apparent that she was good at it.
Tara just kept on staring at him, her arms crossed and her look hard and impassive. Giving up Spike turned and walked out the door, slamming it hard as the anger started to burn through his veins like fire. It was so bad it was making him shake slightly like some weak schoolboy in his first fight; he felt angry, pissed off, ashamed and…everything.
He felt like he wasn't sure who that was at the house, that wasn't the Tara he knew. It was like she was a different girl…or maybe it was last night that she wasn't herself or maybe losing Willow was all too much for her that this was who she was now.
Last night she was just so…
Kicking a rock hard across the backyard, Spike decided he wasn't' going to think about it, he wasn't going to think about her or anything to have to do with her ever again. Next stop L.A. At least there he knew there was someone he could lay into without his chip going off. 'Yeah, a throw down with Angel would really hit the spot right about now…'
Sunnydale, and everyone in it, could go to hell.
The second Spike slammed the door, Tara found herself crumpling to the floor, the resolve she had disappearing faster than a speeding trainand she soon found her body wracked with sobs; her mind was filled with the conversation she'd just had with him…another one ending in a blow out between the two of them.
I can't believe I did that, I said that to him. Oh god, I'm such a horrid person. Who would say things like that to someone who was a friend to you when your own friends were nowhere to be found? I can't believe I did that…I…How could I have done that? I mentioned her and he didn't kill me. He should have – chip or no chip – but I shouldn't have mentioned her or thrown her in his face.
But she knew she did and there wasn't anything she could do to take any of it back, the words were said and everyone was angry…there was no going back.
The words Spike said to her in anger rang in her ears. "You know, I thought you had something…Thought you had strength or…I don't know, something that made you special. But I see it now; you're just the same as the rest of them, a nasty bitch. And people say I'm evil."
She didn't mean to, the words just came out, she was hurt and angry and…he called her evil. Tara's father used to call her that, he called her the spawn of hell and warned her that her powers would bring nothing but pain to those she loved. But she couldn't help it, those words…she just snapped…it made her feel like she was seventeen and helpless again…
Tara jumped when she heard the front door, wiping her eyes quickly and looking up. "S-Spike?" Her face fell slightly when she saw that it wasn't Spike, it was Xander. The smell of pizza flowed into the room and from the smell of it she knew the pizza was for Dawn. Tara didn't eat mushrooms and sausage.
"Hey Tar-. Hey, what happened?" Xander pointed to the fallen pot rack and Tara's obvious upset appearance.
Forcing a smile, Tara shook her head. "N-nothing, just a b-bad night," she lied, tucking her hair behind her ear and braving a smile as she stood up, wincing when she saw her own reflection in the microwave.
He smiled and walked over to her, hugging her slightly. "Why don't you go upstairs and take a rest. The Dawnster will be back from Janis' soon and Anya and I will look after her. Go up and take a bath and relax, okay? It's been a long week and you need the rest."
"T-there's kittens…in the living room…I-I was supposed to bring them to a s-shelter…" she started weakly.
"Don't worry. I'll take care of it. Now go upstairs and relax," he insisted.
She knew there was no winning in this argument and at some point she started to feel out of place when everyone got together. It was best she took that much-needed rest…
Nodding in submission, she sighed and headed up the stairs, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her head bowed down and unable to shake this horrid feeling she had. It was her own doing and she knew she was going to have to deal with it now.
Tara was unable to grasp that she had actually snapped at him; he's a friend – was a friend – maybe the only one she really had right now. They had fun together – inspite of all the fighting – and…
But that was the problem; Tara knew what the problem was. They had fun together. They had fun together and she forgot; it was too soon to forget, it wasn't right.
It happened and they did.
She sat heavily on the bed, putting her head in her hands as her body started shaking with quiet sobs again. Partly in relief that she was still alive after all the horrid things she said, how mad he had been at her…she couldn't remember the last time she'd seen someone so angry.
Sniffling, she stood and started to shed her clothes, slipping her terrycloth robe on, a soft thud causing her to look down and making her gasp. Watchers Diary: William the Bloody.
Taking a deep breath, she picked it up with shaky fingers and pulled it open to one of the many dog-eared pages and found herself drawn into the words yet again.
"Oh, lark. Grant a sign if crook'd be Cupid's shaft.
Hark, the lark, her name it hath spake."
"My heart expands...'tis grown a bulge in it...inspired by your beauty, effulgent."
Her fingers flipped through the pages and mixed with his words were ones that were her own. She loved poetry but never thought she was good enough to show anyone; so she chose to write privately, she wrote them and hid them where nobody would look. Part of her knew that he – maybe the old part of him – wouldn't poke fun and maybe even appreciate them.
Tears fell onto the page and Tara cried out angrily, nothing but a shrill scream of frustration and anger, her body filling with feeling she'dnever felt before.
Stalking over to the window, she pulled it open and without so much as a second glance she tossed the book – her notes and all – out the window, slamming it shut behind her and heading into the bathroom for a long hot bath, accompanied with a good cry.
Tara spent well over an hour in the tub, not feeling relaxed in the slightest and only filled with the feelings of being frustrated and lost.
'I didn't know what I was going to do; I didn't know what I wanted to do. The one person in this town that understood me…I threw him out. I told him to never come back. But I didn't mean it. I was only angry and frustrated and hurting. I didn't mean any of it.'
She knew she couldn't take it back; if she took it back then Spike would see that he could walk all over her. She would be just another girl he could trample on, she had to standher ground regardless of how she felt…of how she really felt.
Moving slowly, Tara walked to the mirror and brushed out her hair, slipping on the robe again. Shewas too weary to look for a pair of pajamas so she settled on the robe. It wasn't like anyone was going to check on her, she had heard Xander leave with Anya and Dawn a while ago. Nobody came to check on her.
He used to.
Not any more though.
Without even bothering to climb under the blankets, Tara curled up on one side of the bed, closing her eyes and hoping to rid herself of the image of his face...not when he was angry. All she could see was his tear-streaked face. He could deny it all he wanted and say it was the chip but now they both knew better.
Tucking her damp hair behind her ear, she tried to drift to sleep, it was hard with everything on her mind and the sheet smelling like Spike didn't help either.
But eventually exhaustion overpowered her mind.
"Leave. Now."
He did as she demanded, but he didn't get too far. He managed to storm his way to the corner, amazed at how much pure rage will fuel you. But as soon as he got to the corner something stopped him.
"Just because Cecily walked on you..."
"...go on and run. Run away like you did that night at the party..."
It perplexed him how she knew all of that; it was ancient history – literally – and not to mention it was his private business. Nobody knew about Cecily or that night…except for Dru…
He wondered if he told Tara last night when he was drunk; but he remembered everything that happened last night, vampire constitution was good for that and he knew he hadn't spoke a word to her. 'How the hell did she know?'
Spike couldn't figure it out and it was starting to eat at him, turning quickly he turned and stormed back to the house. It was one thing to be angry, but it was another to have a hundred unanswered questions moving around in his head. It wouldn't make for a good day's sleep either.
'Quick round of fists and fangs with a couple of the gormless vamps that ran the streets of this town would take care of the rage, but the only thing that could give me piece of mind is asking that bint how she knew all my bloody private business.'
When he finally reached the house he stopped under the tree near the back door for a quick smoke to calm down. While he was smoking, he tried to rack his brains again, making sure he hadn't told her. It was one thing to waltz in there and demand to know how she knew his business, but the last thing he wanted to do was to turn himself into a fool, again...and what's more, he didn't need it to be turned into anything or have anything shoved up anywhere. Tara seemed angry enough to do it too, bloody hell, Spike had never even seen Buffy that pissed--
Buffy.
Spike remembered telling Buffy about that night and what happened with Cecily, when she asked him to tell her how he had offed those two slayers. That had been a barrel of laughs. If his memory was right, it ended with her telling him that he was beneath her.
He decided that washow Tara knew about Cecily and everything…Buffy told her. For the first time since her death Spike was pissed off at her. But the bigger part of him knew that Buffy was right when she said that. Spike was beneath her, he was beneath Tara too. The things he had said to her last night…
'Oh hell, what about all the things she just said to me? I was a soft git. I really, really...'
"Ow!" Spike growled as something hard landed on his head. "What the bloody hell…" Turning he glanced at the window – realizing that it was Tara's window – watched as the light went out. "Bitch," he spat, looking down at his feet to see what she had thrown.
His eyes spotted a book and he reached down and picked up the old brown leather bound book, turning it over in his hands and wondering why she would throw a book at him, of all things. Spike opened it at a random page, not paying attention till he spotted his own name…
"...once known as William the Bloody, now seems to favor the name Spike..."
He stared at the pages as if they would disappear if he so much as blinked.
"...As Buffy tells it. So it appears the name William the Bloody was in fact in reference to his "Bloody awful poetry" and not, as once thought, related to his killing habits, although..."
"Ooh," he said softly, the realization of what he had in his hands dawning on him. "A Watcher's Diary. So she's been having a good laughat my expense haven't you then, love?" he spoke to the darkened window. His blood boiled again, realizing that this was how she knew all about him and his past.
Spike flipped through the pages some more, some of the writing obviously old and some of it looked new, most likely added by Giles when Buffy broke his confidence and told him everything Spike had told her. "Bitch."
Grinding his cigarette out against the tree, he decided that it was his lucky night after all, it wasn't every day – or ever if he thought about it – that a vampire got a hold of something that was so heavily safeguarded against prying eyes.
He shoved the book into his pocket and turned back down the street, making it his mission to get a bottle of something strong and go home to have himself a good read. Now he knew how Tara knew about his past, which meant he never had to see her again.
That thought didn't bring Spike the joy he thought, but that thought made him just a little bit sad.