As promised, here we go for the second chapter! I hope you'll enjoy!
Again I wanna say huge thanks to Splishysplashy and BiggiePanda for beta reading and to MillennialCryBaby for her amazing banner.
Buffy dropped the mountain of bags she was carrying onto the kitchen counter and rolled her shoulders with a groan.
She'd been looking forward to this. Really, she had. She'd even enjoyed it at the beginning (the I-can-still-look-stylish-while-fighting-evil leather boots she'd treated herself to were proof of that). But as it turned out, running between overcrowded shops all afternoon the day after defeating the ultimate evil? Not a great idea.
Her side was still aching from the blade that had pierced her, and leading an army of scared girls to their supposed deaths had been too draining to recover from in just one night. And then there was Spike. Who was somehow back, and a part of her had wanted to stay behind with him, too scared he wouldn't be there when she came back.
Her eyes traveled to her bed, and a small smile tugged at her lips as she observed Spike sleeping peacefully. She really wished she could have ditched the whole excursion in favor of a nap.
She shook the distracting thought out of her head and started putting their food away. God, if she wasn't careful she would end up using just about any excuse to stay in bed a bit longer with him.
Buffy froze at the thought, realizing a large part of her actually considered sharing her bed with Spike a no brainer at this point. Even knowing Dawn would be sleeping a few feet away. Although it wasn't like any of it would be new to her sister, and given her reaction when she had found out, Buffy didn't think she would mind too much. She hadn't exactly been thrilled, but at least she hadn't been too judgemental nor wiggy about it. And that was before her sister had patched things up with their resident vampire.
Buffy had barely drifted off to sleep, comfortably wrapped in Spike's embrace, when she became vaguely aware of someone walking down the stairs. Before she had time to do anything, she heard a gasp, and when she angled her head toward the intruder, her eyes met her sister's.
"B-Buffy?" The girl squeaked, alarm and confusion clear on her face.
Buffy slowly turned around in Spike's arms, careful not to wake him, until her back was at his front. Once facing the teen, she offered Dawn a reassuring smile.
As if the situation wasn't quite awkward enough, Spike pulled her in closer with an adorable little moan as he emerged from slumber himself. A second later, she felt him freeze and tense up against her as he realized they had company. She discreetly took his hand under the sheet in an attempt to get him to relax - and settle her own nerves in the process.
"What's up? You need anything?" She asked her sister.
"Are you two back at it, then?" The teen sputtered once the initial shock was over.
"No," Buffy replied at once. "no, it's not like that. We're…"
Her drowsy mind was struggling to find the right words to explain what exactly they were doing, suddenly being all cuddly and everything. She glanced at Spike over her shoulder.
"We're just drawing comfort from each other, Bit. Last few days have been rough."
Buffy nodded in confirmation, thankful he didn't need obscene amounts of caffeine to gather his wits properly upon waking up.
Dawn seemed deep in thoughts for a moment, observing them quizzically.
"Whatever. We're starting a game of Dungeons and Dragons and need more people, but I'll go ask someone else."
"You're playing a game in the middle of the apocalypse?"
"Well, you're being all snuggly with a vamp. We all cope differently."
Then she turned her heated gaze on Spike.
"What I told you when you came back still stands."
"Wouldn't expect anything less, Nibblet."
She gave a stiff nod at that, seemingly placated for the moment, then left the room without another word.
On the subject of Dawn, Buffy realized upon unloading their supplies that her impossible sister had blatantly disregarded her instructions to buy new school books while she was busy securing Spike's dinner at the local butcher. Instead, the brat had gotten snacks she could only assume was meant for the resurrected vampire. Some British, disgusting - looking cereal bars, spicy nuts, sour sweets and mini marshmallows. That did mollify her a bit, but Dawn really needed to catch up on all the subjects she had missed those last few months.
Buffy didn't mind playing the authority figure and coming down hard on girls she barely knew, but she hated having to be like that with her sister. She loved Dawn more than anything, and it felt like they'd been drifting apart enough as it was lately without adding any more strain to their relationship. She guessed it couldn't hurt to give her sister a week off before getting her started on schoolwork. After all, they barely kept yet another insanely powerful baddie from killing them all and ending the world just the day before. That called for some slack, right?
The fridge and cupboards were crammed with all kinds of food by the time she reached the butcher's bag, and she filled the giant mug she'd gotten for Spike with blood before shoving it into the microwave. The rest went into the freezer, and it occurred to her that a few months ago, she would have cringed at the thought of his bags of blood next to her ice creams. Now, she almost found it poetic. The stark contrast between human sweetness and demon food seemed like an echo of the contradictions in her very nature.
The last of the sunlight had almost completely disappeared from the sky when she deposited the steaming mug on the bedside table next to Spike. He had stubbornly refused to eat the previous morning (something about feeding after beating up nasties, rather than before, feeling much more satisfying) so she assumed he would be starving right about now.
Predictably, calling his name and touching his shoulder didn't wake him, so she sat on the edge of the bed and reached for his hair. He took a deep, sudden breath when her fingers tangled in his soft curls, caressing his scalp gently.
The sleepy vampire leaned into her hand. "Buffy?" he called softly, before opening his eyes.
He hadn't changed one bit, she thought with amusement. He could sleep through the loudest yells of his name or the most insistent nudges, but petting his hair - or touching his neck or ears - would awake him without fail.
She drew back reluctantly and stood up, smiling as she did so.
"Hey," she whispered, then continued as she nodded at his dinner, "drink up while it's warm. There's more in the freezer. The mug is yours, so please don't go pouring blood into anything else," she warned, even though after living under the same roof as him for months, she knew he wouldn't have.
Spike blinked up at her in stunned silence, but he was too famished to bother thinking too much about why the hell she was doting on him and bringing him breakfast in bed as if he was a bloody invalid. He sat up and gulped his meal down hungrily.
"Thanks," he mumbled after downing it, then squinted in disbelief at the white letters printed on the side of the black mug, all but growling, "#1 Big Bad?"
The bloody chit had the gall to smirk at him.
"Well, after yesterday, I thought you might need to overcompensate," she explained flippantly with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
If the rush of feeding hadn't been enough to wake him up fully, the realization that Buffy had chosen a mug specifically for him certainly did. She could have just grabbed the first one she encountered, but she didn't. The corners of his lips twitched up for half a second as he examined the object more closely. She must have also noticed the amount of refills he'd needed to get a proper meal in, because this one was much bigger than the mug he'd been using at the Summers house.
Nevertheless, the vampire kept his expression impassive, borderline annoyed. He was thrilled by her present all right, but that didn't mean he would just pass on a bit of banter with her. He had to get his jollies somehow , didn't he?
"With a sodding mug," he deadpanned.
He watched her try and fail to suppress a grin, his dead heart swelling at the sight of her glowing with delight and mischief. Seeing her happy and carefree like she was now - with him! - was a bloody wonder.
"I can get you a T-shirt as well if you want," Buffy retorted with an overly sweet voice.
He snorted and shook his head, unable to keep the smirk from his face. He wasn't exactly sure what they were doing could qualify as flirting , but he loved how easy and downright fun interacting with her had become.
"I should probably get some clothes, actually," the vampire muttered thoughtfully.
He could also use some other essentials, like smokes and booze. Maybe even a book or two to pass the time. It had been a good enough distraction while he was locked up at the Summers' house.
The vampire refrained from groaning in annoyance as he remembered he hadn't finished the latest romance novel he'd been reading and would never know if the decent bloke got together with the girl he had been pining after for so long.
"Way ahead of you, mister," she said smugly, breaking him out of his musing.
That rendered him speechless for a few seconds, and Spike watched his Slayer walk back to the kitchen area with a raised eyebrow. Surely she didn't mean…
He grabbed his mug and hurried after her. "Wait. What ?"
She didn't answer and instead started rummaging through a bunch of bags containing clothes, books, magazines and toiletries. It was only when he realized she was arranging their content into 3 separate piles - one of them consisting of black clothes, a towel, hair gel, nail polish and a book - that he dared to wrap his head around what she could have meant.
The vampire filled his mug again and put it in the microwave, before slowly approaching the pile he assumed was meant for him. "Is that…"
No. He couldn't. He didn't even dare ask. A part of him was still certain he was mistaken and that pile was meant for Faith or some other slayer. Maybe one of them had been wounded and hadn't been able to join in on the shopping excursion. Yes, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Another part of him couldn't help but hope, though.
"Alright, that's for you," she started, indicating the pile in front of him, "It's not much, but it's all the essentials we could think of."
His jaw went slack from the shock. Something in his chest did a sodding backflip - he literally couldn't remember the last time that happened - and for a second there, he thought his heart had started beating again.
Thankfully, he managed to shake himself out of it and examine the supplies. He wasn't exactly eager for her to realize just how self-aware and insecure he had become with the soul, so he figured the best course of action was to hide behind some more banter.
"No smokes? So you do hate me," he teased, raising mischievous eyes to hers.
Buffy smirked. He could put up all the walls he wanted and pretend it didn't touch him, but she had seen the awe on his face when she had shown him his pile, even if it was only there for a second. It had reminded her of his expression when she had crouched down to check up on him after fighting the demon that had tried to bleed Xander on top of the Hellmouth. Such simple things that he never had… And after everything he'd been through, it felt good to see some glimpses of happiness in him, even if he wouldn't admit to it.
"Blame Dawn for that. She said, and I quote: 'If he wants to stink, he can just use his own money for it'."
Buffy watched fondly as he raised his eyes to the ceiling with a groan, swearing under his breath and muttering about her tiny hellion of a sister having a taste for torture.
If she was honest, she had never been too bothered by the smell herself. Or the taste, for that matter. It was just a part of him - although since the soul, that particular part of him had receded quite noticeably and she wasn't sure she really missed it.
"Well, I guess I'll just nick some, then," he said thoughtfully while going through the now empty grocery bags, seemingly looking for something.
She was about to ask if the soul didn't have a problem with stealing, when he raised downright outraged eyes to hers.
"What, no booze either?" he asked, sounding more like a whining child than a hundred years old master vampire.
She rolled her eyes at his dramatics and proceeded to cut the price tags off her clothes. "You can raid the bar downstairs if you want."
He hummed and seemed to contemplate that for a moment. "'Guess that'll work. Ta, Slayer."
With that sorted, Spike examined the supplies she'd gotten him more closely. The vampire frowned at the black shirts and jeans. They were not only his style, but also his size . A warm feeling spread in his chest. Bloody hell, since when did Buffy know his size? He was actually so gobsmacked that he somehow didn't comment on her wasting money on boxers and night clothes he would likely never wear.
His attention then jumped to the book she'd picked up for him. It was the romance novel he never got to finish… how the bloody hell did she know? On top of everything, it seemed she had also remembered his favorite hair gel and nail polish brands. He always thought she never cared enough to notice such things, resulting in him knowing her way better than she knew him, but he was forced to admit he may have been dead wrong about that all this time.
In any case, he was touched beyond words by her thoughtfulness.
"Thank you, Buffy," he said earnestly, raising his eyes to hers.
"You're welcome," she replied softly.
They exchanged a small smile, and then she was watching him with such intensity, he could have just lost himself in her eyes forever. She had that glint in them. The same one she'd had earlier in the bathroom. The same one she'd had last year whenever she wanted him to kiss her. But he knew better than to make the first move with her, nowadays.
He broke her gaze and brandished the pink toothbrush still in its packaging with a lopsided smile. "Let me guess. This from the Nibblet?"
Buffy was grateful for the sudden change of subject. No, really, she was... She'd been drawn to him again . The relief of having him back really wasn't helping when it came to keeping some feelings buried. She supposed it was a good thing he kept pulling back whenever things got too intense…
Yay for the soul , she thought without much enthusiasm.
"Well, obviously," she drawled, before shoving a handful of price tags in the trash bin, "Even I don't hate you that much."
The vampire smirked. "Can't remember how it started, but we had an ongoing joke about pink being my secret favorite color," he explained with a fond look on his face.
She refrained from snorting. That sounded like Dawn, alright. Buffy was always surprised at finding out how much they had bonded during those months she'd been gone. After she got brought back, Dawn would randomly mention some of his little quirks and habits, what they used to do to pass the time together and so on. As such, she had learnt despite herself that Spike was a terrible cook - and would get insanely offended if that fact was ever mentioned to him - could spend over an hour in the shower as long as there was hot water, and had come to occasionally enjoy eating his blood frozen like a Freeze Pop during the hottest days of the summer - which, by the way, yuk . It was kinda disturbing to know her sister knew her past lover almost better than she did.
The vampire moved past her to fetch his mug when the microwave beeped, then rummaged inside the cupboards until he found the box of Weetabix Dawn had bought for him. He held it up quizzically, before glancing her way with a frown.
"Dawn said you liked them. Which I hope you do, because no one else is going to eat them, pretty much ever," she teased.
He chuckled and proceeded to open the box, making her smile at the easygoing domesticity of it all. Who knew the toxic relationship they had walled themselves into would eventually grow into something so comfortable and relaxed?
"Speaking of. Where's the Bit?" Spike asked, interrupting her musing.
"Picking up the pizzas with Xander and Andrew."
He snorted at that as he crumbled half a weetabix bar into his mug. The few times he'd had pizza with the little chit, she'd insisted on having pineapple, olives and anchovies on hers, little weirdo that she was. Just the smell of it had nearly been enough to make him gag.
"Wanted to make sure they didn't forget any of the weird shit she likes to have on hers, did she?" he said in jest.
They exchanged a knowing smile, their eyes full of the warmth and affection they shared for the teen.
The monks had done a bang-up job with her, in that she was as normal as a teen could be - if a little nerdy sometimes. To the point that like everyone else, the girl came with some quirks which were actually rooted in her fake childhood. The way she told it, Buffy would sometimes steal some of her food, so whenever there was a choice of menu, she'd started asking for things her sister didn't like so Buffy's quick fingers wouldn't sneak their way onto her plate. As a result, she grew to like things most people didn't.
Leaning against the kitchen counter, Spike sipped his blood and watched her walk to the other room to pile up her clothes in a neat pile on the floor next to her bed. That made him realize that he still had no idea where he was supposed to put his own things. Where did she plan on having him stay? Wouldn't she have shown him to his room by now if she wanted him to crash elsewhere? Could it be that those few nights together had meant as much to her as they had to him and she wanted to pick things up where they left off?
I could get used to this , she'd say.
Could she have meant it? Back then, lulled by her warmth and her tenderness, he'd been certain she had. But things were never that simple with them, were they? And why would she have kissed the bloody ponce if she wanted to get somewhere with him? It just didn't make any sense…
"Will you come to dinner with us?" she broke through his musing while folding a pair of jeans.
"Can do," he replied at once, then thought about it for a second, "if I'm welcome, that is. Can't imagine the rest of your lot was all too happy knowing I was back."
Even though he had died saving their lives just the day before, he could clearly imagine Wood trying to brass him off and pick up a fight, then Giles and Harris would obviously join in, surely followed by the baby slayers, and next thing he knew, he'd be dust.
Ungrateful lot, they were. He had gotten used to their pattern by now. They would tolerate his presence, becoming almost friendly anytime a looming threat got too close, but as soon as they didn't need his help anymore, they'd be all too happy to ditch him in a hole and forget about his existence.
"I… I haven't told anyone yet," he heard her admit after a while as she walked back to the kitchen area.
The vampire gave her a long look, his features carefully schooled into a blank mask. Well, that certainly explained why she hadn't shown him to his room yet. Didn't want to run into her chums and have to explain about hanging out with the resurrected undead, did she? He couldn't even blame her for it. Not after she'd been abandoned and thrown out of her own house the last time she'd had a disagreement with her so-called 'friends'. And they both knew allowing him around would mean a boatload of disagreements.
"I just wasn't sure how to," she continued while leaning against the counter next to him, oblivious to his inner turmoil.
He heaved out a deep sigh and lowered his gaze in defeat. He wasn't even trying to get her to love him anymore. He just wanted to belong, be part of her world. But if she felt the need to hide him and make excuses for his presence after he saved the sodding world , maybe it meant he could never be enough to even become just that. It might just be the soul coming back with a vengeance, or the lingering memory of his skin and muscle tissues burning away while his organs exploded making him extra grumpy, but he was so fucking tired of this. He wasn't sure he wanted to try anymore. Wasn't sure he wanted to spend the rest of his unlife trying hopelessly to prove himself worthy just so he could exist alongside her and her little friends.
"'Could just bugger off now, y'know. Save you the trouble." He offered flatly.
The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, but at least his voice had sounded more hollow than bitter. As expected, her head snapped up to him. What was less expected, however, was the hurt and confusion obvious on her face.
"Wh- what?" she blurted out, gaping at him in shock.
The way he said it suggested he was going to leave anyway, and she had to steel herself not to let the dread take over. He couldn't leave. Not him. Not when what they had was finally starting to make sense. To feel right. He had become the one person she knew she could count on no matter what, and she had just started opening up to him. Couldn't he see it? Wasn't that what he'd wanted all along? Didn't he love her? Granted, it never stopped Angel from leaving. Nor Riley. Nor Giles. Nor her dad. God, there was something seriously wrong with her…
She shook the frenzied thoughts away, determined to figure out what in the name of god was going on in his head. Spike was nothing like the rest of them. He'd never been one to just give up and leave whenever things got hard. Why would he now?
"Spike," she called softly, thankful that her voice sounded much more composed than the mess she was feeling inside, "why would you leave?"
Well, you lot don't need me anymore, innit? World's safe 'n all.
Thankfully, he was able to hold back the bitter words this time. It wouldn't do any good to lash out at the only person who might actually want him around.
"'Stayed so far because you needed me, pet," he said instead, "but I don't really fancy staying someplace I'm not wanted."
That actually made some kind of sense. Ever since paying him cash had gone out the window because he was in love with her and everything, all they ever did was use him whenever they needed his help, and discard him the first chance they got. That was a hard truth she only recently had the hindsight to acknowledge.
He was expecting the same to happen now, wasn't he? And the only thing he could do to spare himself the pain of being cast aside again was leave on his own.
He thought they would send him on his way as if they were too good to accept him as one of their own. As if he was… beneath them. Once upon a time, he might have been. Not anymore. She wished the soul would stop drowning him in grief and self-loathing for just two minutes so he could see that too.
"You are wanted," she objected earnestly, seeking his gaze, "I want you," she added softly, then rolled her eyes when he raised an eyebrow full of innuendos. " Dawn wants you."
He visibly cringed at whatever mental image that brought him. "Eww. You deranged bint. What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"
She smacked his arm lightly, chiding him for his over-the-top dramatics.
He couldn't leave. Neither of them wanted that… Right?
"Do you want to leave?" she couldn't help but ask in a quiet voice.
She had expected him to deny it without hesitation. So when the silence awkwardly stretched between them, that brought the panic back faster than any words could have. No, no, no, no. That couldn't be happening. He had been through so much to earn the right to be part of her life, and now that they were finally getting to the good, that's when he wanted to leave? What the hell had happened to him? Coming back from the dead couldn't possibly fuck someone up that badly, could it? She inwardly winced as she realized that she was in fact the living proof that, yes it could.
"Didn't think that far," he said eventually, his gaze dropping to the carpeted floor, "just thought I'd go up in flames and you'd remember me like the bloke who loved you so damn much he died saving the world."
That made her blood boil in anger. Things could have so easily ended up that way, and it hurt to know that a part of him was yearning for that outcome while she was dreading it more than anything.
"Will you stop being such a moron?" she admonished tersely, "You big dope. I don't give a crap what the soul says. Coming back didn't make you any less of a hero."
Spike sighed and kept avoiding her seeking gaze. He wasn't a goddamn hero. Not at any rate. He just wanted to protect the woman he loved, and if that meant saving the entire fucking planet, he'd do it in a heartbeat - even if he didn't have one to begin with.
"S'not just that…" he mumbled quietly.
He thought he was done. Finished. And now he was back and he had to live with himself again. He had to go back to carrying the burden of a hundred years of bloodshed all the while aching for any scrap of affection from the woman he loved but who'd never return his feelings because she loved another. Who the bloody fuck thought it was a good idea to bring him back, anyway? Couldn't a bloke just fucking die in peace?
Without warning, the Slayer moved to stand right in front of him, boring her eyes into his.
"William," she murmured resolutely, and god help him, the way his given name deliciously rolled off her tongue shot straight to his groin. "Do you want to leave?" She asked again.
If it was only up to what he wanted, he'd never leave. That was the issue. Because at the moment, he was having a bit of a hard time thinking staying was a good thing, for either of them. Although, he supposed he might not exactly be thinking straight right now, what with the coming back from the dead and all.
Nevertheless, he couldn't lie to her. Not when she was looking at him as if she was searching his very soul for answers. Not when she was using his human name as if she could see the man inside.
"S'not about what I want, pet. S'about doin' right by you," he said softly, wishing she'd understand.
He was trying his very best to take the bloody high road here. Do what was right, no matter how selfish he wanted to be.
For her.
For him too, really. With good ole Willy's soul aboard, his heart was more breakable than ever, and he needed to start protecting it better.
He watched helplessly as her expression darkened. God , he knew that look. She was thinking about the brooding sod, wasn't she? She thought he was going to desert her the same way Peaches had…
Spike inwardly groaned at his own stupidity. He was such a bloody wanker. He hadn't meant to blurt things out like that. He just wanted to give her options, share his concerns and have an honest talk with her about it in order to reach a decision together. That was the responsible, mature thing to do, wasn't it?
He was about to make sure she knew he would never leave her side unless they both agreed he should, when he felt her hand reach for his, loosely curling around his bigger one. She looked up at him again, renewed fire and hope burning in her eyes
"Do right by me then, and be the one that stays."
He closed his eyes with a sigh, taking a moment to relish in the warm feeling invading his chest at her heartfelt words. Then he looked down to her with a smirk, and just by the way her eyes lit up, he could tell she knew he wouldn't refuse her. Of course he'd stay, if she wanted him to. They'd still need to have that chat, though. Preferably after he had some time to clear his noggin. He was sure there were some things she hadn't considered and he wanted her to know all the facts before making a decision.
He was about to tell her as much when the door opened.
"Dinner's ready, Buff," Xander chirped as he entered the room.
The whelp froze in shock when he saw Spike, then his eyes grew into saucers at the sight of Buffy's hand slipping away from his while she stepped out of his space.
Great , thought Spike. Nevermind their unspoken truce, if the boy thought he was putting the moves on Buffy, that would be yet another one of her friends wanting him dust.
"Wh- what the-" he sputtered.
"Ever heard of knocking, Harris?" Spike drawled, before finishing his mug of blood.
Buffy winced at the utter disgust on her friend's face, knowing he was going to make a scene about Spike being back. Xander had always been painfully predictable when it came to the vampire, but she thought the two of them had reached some sort of begrudging acceptance ever since they rescued Spike from the First. At least, that's what it had looked like…
Buffy frowned in surprise when she saw Xander enter the basement just before first light. Why on Earth would he visit Spike this early in the morning when no one else was around? What the hell was going on?
It wasn't concern nor protectiveness that made her follow him quietly a minute later. At least that's what she tried to tell herself. If anything, she was just making sure one of their best warriors in the coming fight stayed undusty. Yeah. That's all it was. It had nothing to do with the fact that Spike had been through more than his fair share lately, and the last thing he needed was more people tormenting him.
She opened the door silently and froze at the sound of their voices.
"Never figured you for the reading type," Xander was saying, his voice surprisingly neutral, almost friendly.
The sound of metallic chains resonated in the basement, followed by the distinct click of manacles being closed. She felt stupid for not realizing sooner that someone must have been chaining him up, as he always was whenever she popped down during the day.
"Not much else to do when you're chained to a sodding bed, mate," replied Spike in the same tone.
Since when could those two actually communicate without being at each other's throats? Now that she thought about it, Xander hadn't been his usual nasty self whenever Spike was mentioned, lately.
"Can't relate. Never been chained to a bed… much."
There was a short silence, then Spike's chuckle rumbled in the air.
"Well, never figured you for the chains type," he replied good-naturedly, before pausing for a second and adding snidely, "This not turning you on, is it?"
"Annnd on that note, I'm out of here."
The last thing she heard before getting out of the basement was Spike calling after her friend.
"Oi! That's not a no, boy!"
Surely Spike saving the world didn't make Xander hate him more , right? Or maybe her friend had only been accepting his presence because they needed his help to defeat the First. God , how could they even claim to be the good guys with a mentality like that?
"What the hell? Aren't you dead?" Xander blurted out.
Thankfully, Spike didn't seem too put off by the sudden animosity. He raised an amused eyebrow and tilted his head to the side.
"Well, yeah. Vampire, remember?" he replied sarcastically, clearly enjoying Xander's bewildered attitude.
"Wh- you're supposed to be buried under Sunnydale!"
Spike rolled his eyes. After dealing with a Hellmouth for so long, you'd think the boy would be somewhat used to the impossible happening.
"And you're supposed to have two working eyes," the vampire snarked back. "Things don't always go the way they should. Deal with it," he said with finality, dropping his mug in the sink behind him and crossing his arms over his chest.
Buffy felt a pang at her heart upon hearing his words. Should . He thought he should be gone.
"That's not fair!" thundered Xander before she could get lost in her thoughts, "After all the lives you ruined, why would you get to come back, of all people?"
She watched helplessly as Spike's jaw tightened in hurt, expression hardening. All of a sudden, his reservations over staying made a new kind of sense. His past haunted him enough as it was with the soul. The last thing he needed was to be around people who despised him even more than he hated himself.
"I didn't choose this, believe me," he muttered somberly, glancing away.
Alright , that was it , decided Buffy. If Spike was to stay for her, the least she could do was make sure the others were treating him fairly. And that started now.
"Xander, Spike saved us," she snapped heatedly.
Her best friend all but scoffed at that. She sent him a hostile glare, daring him to speak his mind.
"If anything, he wore a necklace that saved us," Xander countered.
She swore she would have growled in fury if she had a tiny bit more demon in her. Xander was one of her best friends and she loved him, but she wasn't going to let him diminish Spike's sacrifice like that.
"He died so we could live . Now, in light of that, do you think you can stop being an ass for just two minutes?"
Xander's body seemed to deflate at her words, as if all his rage and bravado had suddenly turned into despair. He collapsed in defeat on one of the chairs around the kitchen table, burying his head in his arms.
"I miss her, Buffy," he whispered miserably.
Buffy heaved a deep sigh, understanding finally dawning on her. He wasn't mad at Spike being back. Not really. He was mad Anya wasn't. And the suffocating grief was making him lash out in pain.
She glanced at her former lover for a second, remembering all too well the hurt of losing him. Buffy sat down next to the young man hunched over the table, before taking one of his hands.
"I know," she soothed, rubbing at his skin.
The vampire observed the scene thoughtfully. Well, that explained the whole stake-up-his-ass routine upon finding out he was back. They'd never exactly been on friendly terms, but last he knew, they were still more or less civil with each other.
Bloody soul , cursed Spike as the empathy kicked in, making him remember how utterly devastating it had felt to lose the woman he loved. And he didn't give a piss about the failed wedding, Anya's trollop attitude afterwards or Harris' overall tendency of acting like a clueless git where she was concerned. Those two loved each other. Clear as day.
He took a deep breath and moved to sit on the chair across from Harris. He would not approach the sniveling mess that had become of the whelp, but he supposed he could offer some sort of mute, distant support. Not like anyone would read it for what it was, anyway…
Thankfully, it didn't take long for the boy to calm down. He had just started wiping at his eyes and nose when the light caught on something around his wrist. It was a bracelet with a single charm on it, shaped like half of a giant coin. The straight side of it was weirdly dented, and there was an intricate pattern engraved on the entire surface of the metal. It seemed oddly familiar. Spike focused his attention on the design and nearly gasped out loud when he recognised it.
Bloody hell, Anya.
"Your bird gave you this?" he asked Harris, feeling like he already knew the answer to that question.
The boy followed Spike's nod to the trinket on his wrist, frowning.
"What does it matter?"
Spike rolled his eyes. He swore the welp was trying to brass him off on purpose.
"Ya really think I'm the type to small talk about bleeding jewelry ?" He snarked, then sighed as the boy's blank look made him realize he would have to explain further. "If it is what I think it is, it's a rare and powerful demonic artifact."
Thankfully, it was enough to pull Harris away from his misery for a second. He looked down at the bracelet, toying with it.
"Anya told me it was a good luck charm. She wouldn't lie to me about that."
Spike refrained from rolling his eyes again. Right. Because those two had always been dreadfully honest with each other, and Anya had never been bothered by Xander freaking out anytime her ties to the demon world were mentioned. The boy could be so thick, sometimes…
Well, there was only one way to know for sure. Spike reached for the charm, but to his annoyance, Xander pulled away.
"Hands off. That's the only thing I have left of her," he said defensively.
Spike took a deep breath. If he was right, there was no time to waste. He had to get the welp to cooperate somehow.
"May I please inspect that sodding charm?" He snapped, hoping the irate plea would convey the urgency of the situation.
Xander reluctantly offered his wrist after a look from Buffy.
The vampire wasn't exactly surprised when he touched the object and found it humming with dark magic. Anya was a thousand year old ex-demon. Of course she didn't go to battle in her mortal shell without a few back up plans set in motion in case things went south. What confused him was the apparent sloppiness of it all. Why would she have given Harris the trinket in the first place if she was going to lie to him about it? Especially since the bracelet had to be activated to work. It didn't make any sense.
No matter. He wasn't going to sit on his arse if there was a chance he could make it work. A chance he could…
"Right. I need to go," he announced while jumping back to his feet, "and I'll need that please, " Spike added, stretching the last word almost sarcastically as he indicated the bracelet.
Buffy's eyes snapped up to him.
"What? Where?" She demanded at once.
Hearing him talk about wanting to go anywhere after their earlier conversation was making her feel oddly uncomfortable.
"No way in hell!" roared Xander as he stood up and held his wrist to his chest protectively.
"I'll bring it back," Spike tried to placate, but Buffy could hear in his voice that he was rapidly running out of patience.
"I don't care . And why would I trust you, anyway?"
The vampire's only answer was to glare daggers at Xander, the muscle of his jaw popping visibly in annoyance. Buffy couldn't understand how a simple trinket - demonic or otherwise - could get him so worked up all of a sudden.
She moved in between the two men, facing Spike. His gaze softened when it met hers but he looked just as determined as before.
"Spike, what's going on?" Buffy demanded quietly.
The vampire blinked in surprise when he realized she wasn't automatically siding with the boy, and looked like she genuinely wanted to understand his point of view. He was truly humbled she kept taking a stand for him tonight. He just wished she wouldn't have to go against her friends continually on his behalf…
He wanted to tell her the truth. He really did. But even on the off chance that they believed him, he wasn't exactly sure it would work, and bringing false hope to the boy about something like that would be downright cruel.
"'Can't tell you what it's about, luv. But it's important. Life or death important."
And urgent. He had to get back there as soon as possible. His chest gave a mad lurch. There were still at least two hours between here and where he needed to go. If he could find a ride, that is. No idea how long that was gonna take. In other words, he had no time to sweet talk the whelp. He had to go now.
Sidestepping Buffy to punch Harris unconscious wasn't exactly his brightest idea - especially with the Slayer violently pinning him to the wall in retaliation - but it seemed to be his best shot at getting the job done.
"Buffy. C'mon, luv, I have to go. We're on the clock, here," he said, trying to wriggle his way out of her grasp.
She held still, though, and was watching him fiercely. It occurred to Spike that he may have crossed some sort of line by punching Xander, but he didn't have time to play nice. He had to act fast. The vampire slammed his body against hers to try and get her off him, but she pushed him back against the wall with a loud bang.
"Go where?" She nearly growled, voice low and threatening.
Fucking grand , now she was turning him on and he could almost feel his bloody skin burst into flames wherever she was touching him, her strong little body pressed tightly against his as if-
"Sunnydale," the vampire snapped in a desperate attempt to get his brain to reboot.
Her brow wrinkled in confusion.
"Just have to check somethin'," he added hastily, hoping against hope it would be enough to get her to let go on her own before she felt him get all hard and bothered.
But the bloody chit had always been set on driving him starkers, so obviously, she didn't. God , he really had to get her off him before she realized his mind was just as lewd as ever.
A sudden head bump later, he had inverted their positions. She inhaled sharply as he pinned her to the wall and he heard her pulse jump, but was out of her space with his hands raised in the air a second later. She might not have freaked out at all, but he wasn't going to take any chances.
Spike bent down to retrieve the trinket from the unconscious boy, draped himself in his duster and pocketed it. He wasn't surprised to find Buffy standing between him and the door when he turned around after putting his boots on.
His resolve almost crumbled at the glimpse of hurt he thought he saw in her eyes, and the vampire realized he couldn't force his way out of here without causing her pain - and not the physical kind they both liked. With a sigh, he relented and leaned back against the kitchen table.
"Buffy. Trust me," he pleaded.
She didn't flinch. Didn't move. Still reeling from the revelation that he might not want to stay by her side, Buffy couldn't help but find his sudden urge to leave suspicious. She trusted him, but…
"Are you even planning on coming back?" She heard herself say, internally wincing when the words came out with a bitter edge to them.
His eyes flashed with something akin to hurt, and he shifted his weight as if he was about to close the distance between them, but stopped himself at the last second.
At times like this, she almost hated that new soul of his. He was still perfectly attuned to her, knew what she needed and when she needed it - even better than herself, sometimes - but he wasn't trusting it anymore, and watching him pull back from a touch they both craved was utterly infuriating.
If she was honest, Buffy wasn't much better herself in that regard. She didn't trust her growing feelings for him either. She was afraid she'd confuse lust, want and comfort with… something more, then lead him on and break his heart. Ever since he got his soul, she was well aware how easily she could crush him without even meaning to, and it was downright terrifying when she thought about it too much.
"Buffy," he called, gently pulling her out of her thoughts, "I'll be back before sunrise, luv. With Harris' trinket," he promised with that open and earnest look in his eyes - the one she often associated with his soul. He looked at her for a beat, letting his words sink in, then added with newfound determination, "I bloody swear it, Slayer."
Buffy let her body relax at that. She believed him. That didn't mean she'd let him off the hook that easily, though. They promised they'd be honest with each other, and she would hold him to it.
"Alright. Now it's your turn to trust me. Tell me what this is about."
He hesitated and eyed the lump form of Xander lying on the floor, before looking back at her.
"You can't tell him. Not until I come back and we know for sure," he warned.
She held his gaze for a while then nodded her consent. She trusted Spike, and whatever the big mystery was, surely it was fine to keep it a secret for a few more hours.
A second later, he walked into her space and leaned close to her ear. The intimacy of the gesture was enough to send warm fuzzies in her belly, and the feeling of his breath tickling her ear sent her back to the sweet little nothings he used to murmur to her while his fingers-
Thankfully , all other thoughts promptly cleared from her mind when she grasped the meaning of his words. He leaned back and she looked at him for a few seconds, eyes wide with shock.
"Are you… Are you sure?" She asked carefully.
"No. Hence why the secrecy. But it's worth a shot, innit?"
Her eyes landed on Xander and her heart swelled with hope. It definitely was. God, if Spike could pull this off…
She blinked and moved out of his way, remembering he'd mentioned something about being on the clock. She wanted to come with him more than anything, but explaining everything to the others would delay them even further, and she trusted Spike with this. He would do whatever he had to do and come back to her. He always did.
The vampire moved to the door but stopped in front of her and shoved his lighter into her jeans pocket.
"Just a guarantee for you that I will be back. I'm bloody fond of this lighter."
She cracked a warm smile at that and opened the door for him. "I'll show you out."
They walked the empty corridors of the Hyperion for a few minutes. The silence between them was heavy with their unfinished discussion, and Spike could tell the girl didn't like one bit the fact that he had to leave her side before they had that chat. She wanted to be certain of where they stood, what to expect, and the least he could do was give her that before heading out.
"Slayer, about before-" he said when they reached the final flight of stairs leading to the lobby.
But Buffy started talking at the exact same moment, throwing him off so much that he forgot what he was about to say. He nodded for her to say her piece first.
"It gets better," she repeated softly, and the compassion in her voice had him wondering for a split second if it was really him she was talking to.
Spike raised an eyebrow at her cryptic declaration, pressing her to continue.
"The fucked up feeling after being brought back, I mean. If that's how you feel."
Oh .
Was it that obvious? Guess it would be to her. He didn't have a giant heaven hangover like she did, but he had lived yesterday thinking it would be his last day. Knowing it would all be over soon, and he'd die saving her and everything she lived for. He had been at peace with it, almost relieved his existence came to an end in such a way.
He wasn't gonna lie, it was hard having that taken away. He knew he was being a moron and a coward about this, but a heroic death would have been easier than trying to find his way on the path to redemption.
Hopefully she was right and it would get easier…
Spike nodded absently as they reached the bottom of the stairs, and they stopped in the middle of the lobby. The whole place smelled like pizzas and he could hear the baby slayers chatting in a room nearby. Giles, Andrew and Dawn were with them.
He turned to her and met her gaze. "I won't leave if you don't want me to. Y'know that, right? Guess I just need to talk it out a bit. Figure out if it's really something we both want."
Her eyes were warm and bright. Spike was so lost on them that he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt her small hand worming its way into his.
"I get it," she soothed with a smile so tender it made his insides melt. "We'll talk when you're back."
She gave his hand a squeeze before letting go and moved behind the counter. She came back with a key that she gave him.
"We're in room 322. Be safe. Hurry back."
Buffy hugged her sides as she watched him leave, then turned around and headed back upstairs, bracing herself for the inevitable tantrum Xander would throw upon waking up.
Let me know your thoughts! I spent forever rewritting that one to find the right balance between getting in just a little bit of angst and keeping them both in character, so I hope the final version works alright.
Next chapter is by far my favorite and will be up tomorrow!