Chapter Twenty-One – No Regrets, Hopefully

Xander pulled into the sleepy cul-de-sac, headed toward the two-story house at the top of the circle. With the apartment over the garage, it looked more like a duplex than a house. He punched a button on the dashboard and the garage door opened, revealing a space large enough for three vehicles. Xander pulled into the far-right space and shut off the engine then scrubbed his hands tiredly over his face as the garage door closed behind them. "And we're here. I'll give you the tour tomorrow after work. I'm going to bed. Have to be up at six."

"Do I need to be up at six as well?"

Xander chuckled, "No, because I choose life. You start next Monday because I don't want to be murdered by a small, blonde woman for snatching you away before she even gets a chance to see you."

Spike laughed, "Okay."

"It'll be a short week because of Thanksgiving." He looked over at Spike. "You'll get the holiday off, because the warehouse is closed, but you won't get the holiday pay until you've been there for ninety days."

Spike nodded. "Sounds reasonable."

Xander opened his door and climbed out then started for a door up a small flight of stairs near the front of the SUV. Spike picked up his bag then got out and asked, "You want me to leave that hoodie in the truck?"

Xander nodded. "Yeah. I'll grab it tomorrow." He pointed at the staircase on the far wall. "Apartment's up those stairs. Door's unlocked."

"Thanks for comin' to fetch me, and I don't want to keep you from your bed, but… when can I see Buffy?"

Xander stopped at the top of the stairs and looked back at Spike. "She texted me that she got called in and should be off around five." Xander pulled his phone out of his pocket as he turned around then he snapped another picture of Spike. He tapped on his phone then tucked it into his pocket. "And now she has proof that you're in my garage."

Spike chuckled. "She'll likely need to sleep for a bit after she gets out of work, yeah?"

"Honestly, Spike, I have no idea, but if I was a betting man, I'd bet my house that you'll probably see her about twenty after five, and that's if she drives the speed limit, which she rarely does, so more like ten after."

Spike grinned. "Okay, Xan. Thanks again, and I really appreciate you lettin' me stay here."

Xander said through a yawn, "No problem, man. See you later." He disappeared into the house.

Spike walked over to the long staircase and started up the steps, still grinning. He stopped at the top of the stairs and waited outside the door for several seconds, then tipped his head back and sighed when he remembered he'd have to open it himself instead of waiting for it to pop open or be opened by a guard like every door he'd encountered over the past seven years. This same scenario had happened outside every door he'd had to use today, and he was starting to wonder how long it would take him to get over that.

He reached out and grasped the knob, still halfway expecting it to be locked, but the knob turned easily under his hand. He opened the door and stepped in, searching for a light switch. He found two just inside the door. One was already flipped up, but there were no lights on that he could see. He flipped the other one up and turned on a small lamp in the corner that dimly illuminated a largish living room with comfortable looking overstuffed furniture. He toed his shoes off and left them sitting under the table next to the door then walked around the couch and chair and into the kitchen, raising an eyebrow at a few dirty dishes in the sink and a pan on the stove with bacon grease in it. He glanced around the rest of the kitchen, noting a coffee maker with some cold coffee still in the carafe and a coffee cup with a spoon in it sitting on the counter. He walked back into the living room, still clutching his bag of stuff, and considered the three doors in the living room wall.

The first door, that he had to remind himself again wasn't going to open on its own, was the one closest to the entry door and was a coat closet. It held several items, mostly women's jackets and shoes, but there were two pairs of men's boots, a man's leather jacket, and a Carhartt coat and bibs hanging on the rod. Spike closed the door and moved down the wall to the next one, quickly grasping the knob before the 'wait for it to open' could kick in. It revealed a large bathroom with a garden tub, a walk-in shower, and double sinks. He turned the light on and looked at a counter strewn with hair care items, makeup, and a cup with two toothbrushes sticking out of it sitting between the sinks. He went in and used the toilet, noticing a huge bottle of shampoo with a matching bottle of conditioner on the shelf in the shower. Both were lavender scented. Spike flushed then dropped his bag on the floor so he could wash his hands. He dried them on his trousers and picked up his bag then absently flipped the light off as he left the bathroom wearing a thoughtful expression.

He opened the last door and his jaw dropped when he flipped on the light. The large bedroom had a king-size platform bed with rumpled bedding strewn with several articles of clothing and two large bunched up bath towels. There were several women's shoes scattered on the floor along with more articles of clothing, and a bra was hanging out of an open drawer in the dresser. He walked over to the open closet and looked at the clothes hanging there. One side was a jumbled mess of women's clothing and the other was a neat collection of men's clothing: t-shirts, long-sleeved flannel shirts, hooded sweatshirts, jeans, shorts, and sweatpants.

Spike turned from the closet and walked slowly out to the living room then sat down on the floor in front of the couch, setting his bag in his lap. Buffy lived here. At least he assumed it was Buffy. He'd never seen her in anything but her scrubs and lab coat, so he didn't know for sure that those were her clothes in the closet and strewn about the bedroom, but he thought it unlikely that Xander would move an ex-con in with some random woman. The men's clothes in the closets were likely the ones she'd purchased for him. He smiled slightly. Buffy was apparently a slob, at least where her living space was concerned, considering she'd kept the infirmary neat as a pin. He'd never seen her suite at the prison, though, and wondered vaguely if it had been in the same state as this flat.

He looked around the living room until he found a clock and was surprised to learn it was nearly midnight. He got up and turned off the light then stretched out on the floor, laying on his side and curling his arm to use as a pillow. He'd try to get some sleep while he waited for Buffy to come home.

Sleep ended up being a long time coming, even as exhausted as he was. It was too quiet. He could hear the ticking of the clock, the refrigerator in the kitchen, and the wind howling outside, but it was nearly as silent as a grave when compared to the noise level of a prison after lights out. His mind started to wander, remembering some of those noises, and he suddenly sat up, reaching for his bag. He pulled it into his lap then quickly opened it and started digging around until he came up with his toothbrush and a tiny tube of toothpaste. He got up and went into the bathroom then spent several minutes scrubbing his teeth and tongue, using up the last of the toothpaste in the tiny tube.

He stuffed the empty tube and his toothbrush back into the bag then stretched out on the floor again. He shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable, and closed his eyes. He shifted several more times before finally drifting off.

XXXX

Buffy drove her small SUV into the garage and punched the button on the remote clipped to her visor then turned the car off and threw the door open, snagging her bag off the seat. She jogged up the stairs and paused for a second or two just outside the door. Spike was in there. She smiled and opened the door, stepping in and saying, "Hey, Google, lights on." The light over the island in the kitchen came on and her smile wilted slightly when she saw Spike sleeping on the floor, using his arm for a pillow. He was still wearing the release clothes the prison had given him, too. She'd made sure to leave the closet open so he'd see his clothes, so why hadn't he changed into shorts or something and gone to sleep in the bed? Or at least on the couch? Why was he sleeping on the floor?

She set her bag on the table by the door then slid out of her coat, tossing it into the chair as she walked over to Spike. She knelt by his head then reached out to lightly rub his arm. "Spike?"

He jerked, one hand coming up in a defensive gesture as his eyes popped open, then he lowered his hand and smiled up at her. "Mornin', pet."

She smiled as she leaned down and slid her hand around the back of his neck. She kissed him deeply then sat back, her hand moving to his cheek. "God, it's good to see you. I missed you so much." She slid her hand around the back of his neck again and he lifted up on his elbow as she pulled him into another kiss. When they broke apart, she pressed her forehead to his. "I hope you're okay with me kissing you, because I'm probably going to be doing it a lot now that I don't have to worry about someone seeing me."

He smiled. "Snog me as much as you like, pet."

"Okay." She kissed him again, sliding her fingers into his hair, then pulled back, a little breathless, and sat back on her feet. "Why are you sleeping on the floor?" She motioned toward the couch. "When there's a great big couch right behind you," she waved at the bedroom, "and a huge bed right in there?"

He sat up and stretched then turned to face her, crossing his legs and laying his hands in his lap with a shrug. "They're not mine and I didn't have permission to use 'em. Traipsing into someone's home and usin' their furniture when you haven't been invited to do so is a good way to get pounded on. Also, it's rude."

Buffy got to her feet and said, "You can sit on the couch, Spike." He got up and sat down beside Buffy on the couch and she reached for his hand, twining their fingers together. "So you just came in and went to sleep on the floor?"

"No, I wasn't aware this was your flat when I came in because Xan never mentioned where you were living. I'd assumed I'd be here by myself, so I started looking around. Noticed the dishes in the sink and thought that a bit odd for what I'd thought was an unoccupied flat, so I checked out the rest of the place. Used your loo, but didn't touch anything else, and once I'd sussed out you lived here, I kipped on the floor to kill time until you got back."

"Let me guess, touching other people's stuff is another prison no-no?" Spike nodded. "Okay, well, this is your apartment, too, so you can touch anything in it."

"All right." He smirked over at her. "Didn't know I'd be roomin' with a slob, pet."

Buffy bumped against his arm with a laugh. "Shut up, Spike. It's not usually this messy, and I meant to have it clean when you got here, but I was freaking out a little… or, you know, a lot… and couldn't focus long enough to clean. Ended up texting Xan like every ten minutes to find out how far away you were, then tracing your route on Google maps trying to figure out when you'd get here, and then I got called in."

Spike chuckled, "Xan did manage to find the time to tell me you were workin' at the emergency room in between takin' snaps of me to send to you."

Buffy blushed. "I only asked for the first two, the doofus, but I wasn't gonna tell him to stop. And yeah, I've been working nights since I started, but now that you're here, I'm transferring to day shift, so I'll have to get used to sleeping at night during my week off." She stood up and motioned toward the bedroom. "And speaking of sleep, I really need to go take a nap. I'm wiped. I didn't sleep when I got off yesterday, because of the whole trying to sleep at night instead thing and the freaking out thing, so I've been awake for two days. I want to try to be up by nine, though, so I'll be ready to sleep again tonight, and I can get my body clock reset."

Spike nodded. "Okay, pet. I'll come wake you at nine."

"I got some shorts and sweats for you to sleep in, so change into something and come with me."

Spike nodded toward the bedroom. "I saw 'em, luv, but I need to have a wash up 'fore I get in your bed. Still got prison all over me, but you go on and have a nap." He motioned toward the bookshelf set into the wall between the bedroom and bathroom doors. "If you wouldn't mind, I'll just sit here and read one of your books 'til it's time to wake you."

Buffy turned and walked into the bedroom, coming out a few minutes later wearing a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt and carrying a pillow and a blanket. "If you don't want to get in bed, then I'll take my nap out here with you. I just want you to hold me. I've waited nine months for you to hold me, Spike. And before you worry about 'having prison all over you,' I don't care. We can wash it off both of us when we wake up. Okay?"

Spike nodded and took the pillow Buffy was holding then laid down while she unfurled the blanket over him. She crawled under the blanket and snuggled back against his chest. "Do you want me to set an alarm for nine?"

He murmured into her hair and wrapped his arm over her, pulling her tight against him. "No. Go to sleep, pet."

She shifted a little, getting comfortable, then laid her hand over his and twined their fingers together against her shoulder. Spike lay sandwiched between Buffy and the back of the couch as he listened to her breathing. She fell asleep quickly and he dropped a light kiss on her head then whispered, "Still don't know why you want me here, but I'll do my very best to make you not regret keepin' me around."