Chapter Five – Sketches and Conversation
Buffy rolled herself out from under the front end of her DeSoto with a huge grin on her face. She'd finally found what had been rattling and had fixed it. She'd already changed the oil and had done a basic tune-up and now her baby was all better. She got to her feet then quickly cleaned up the space and put away all the tools she'd used. A quick scrub with the orange scented hand cleaner and she was ready to go back to her motel room for a long, hot shower. All in all, it had been a good day.
A large cloud of steam billowed out of the bathroom when she opened the door, and she walked over to the DVD player and loaded her Passions DVD then walked over to the bed and plopped down. She scooted into the middle of the bed, folding her legs as she picked up the remote and turned on the TV. She picked up her brush and started dragging it through her damp hair as she watched. She still didn't understand what Spike had seen in this show, but she watched it whenever she could because it brought up pleasant memories. She closed her eyes as she continued to brush her hair, her mind's eye bringing up a picture of Spike sprawled in the chair in his crypt, eyes glued to the TV he'd 'appropriated' from somewhere. She smiled.
When the episode ended, she turned off the TV then got up off the bed and pulled a fresh set of clothes out of her bag. She dressed quickly then slipped into her hiking boots. Even as long as she'd lived in cowboy country, she still hadn't started wearing cowboy boots. They just didn't feel comfortable and were awkward to fight in. Not that she fought anything anymore, except the calves at branding time, but if nothing else, her life as the Slayer had taught her to be prepared for anything. She thought about a jacket then poked her head outside and decided she wouldn't need one. She didn't carry weapons anymore; there was no need, so her only concern was the temperature, not the need for more pockets to stash weapons in. She, of course, had her usual stake tucked into her left boot, but that was all. She had yet to use it here, but for some reason, she couldn't stop carrying it.
She stepped into the bathroom and checked her reflection in the mirror, running her fingers through her long, sun-lightened brown hair. She'd stopped coloring it when Xander had died and now it was back to her natural shade. She'd stopped wearing makeup as well. Trying to wear it while working outside in the dust and wind all day was kind of pointless, and she'd found that she liked the natural look a lot better. Plus, she spent a lot less time in the bathroom, so… bonus. She smiled at herself then flipped off the bathroom light and picked up her small wallet and the key to her room from the night table, tucking them into her back pockets. The diner where she always ate her meals was only a short walk from her motel, so she left her car keys on the table and headed out.
It was a warm night with the ever-present breeze lightly tossing her hair as she crossed the street and started down the sidewalk. She smiled at the people she didn't know and exchanged pleasantries with the ones she did as she made her way to Donna's Diner. The sign on the front of the smallish building declared that she was about to partake of the 'best food in four counties.' She tapped it with her fingers as she passed, just like she always did, and pulled open the door. A rush of cool, grilled-meat scented air wafted past her as she crossed the threshold and stepped into the dining room.
She nodded at Julie, the evening-shift waitress, as she moved to her usual booth in the back corner. Her tall glass of lemonade was already on the table, and she could see Dusty grilling up her burger through the serving window that opened into the kitchen. She nodded at him as well and slipped into the booth.
Julie had left her usual stack of paper placemats and a couple of pencils on the corner of the table. Buffy slid one of the placemats in front of her and flipped it over to the non-colored side then took a long drink of her lemonade. She picked up a pencil and closed her eyes then tried to clear her mind, just blank it out, and the pencil fell to the paper as her eyes opened slowly. She could usually tell what kind of night she was going to have nightmare-wise by the doodles and sometimes cryptic phrases that appeared on the paper. Some of them had to do with the Scoobies – she'd draw small pictures that probably wouldn't mean anything to anyone else, but to her they represented her lost friends, Watcher, and sister.
But most of them had to do with Spike. She'd sketch a rough Zippo or a pack of cigarettes, black-tipped fingers, a railroad spike, even a set of handcuffs once in a while. But the doodle that usually meant she'd be waking up in a cold sweat with a scream locked in her throat was his scarred eyebrow. She'd never really paid it much attention when he'd actually been around – in fact, seeing that eyebrow quirked had usually made her want to either punch him or kiss him, depending on the sneer or leer that accompanied it – but now she could draw it exactly, down to the last hair.
Her burger slid onto the table with a side of, "Hey, Annie, good to see you again. Nice night, huh?" from Julie.
Buffy smiled up at her as she slid the placemat out of the way and pulled the plate across the table to take its place. "Yeah, it's beautiful outside. Has it been busy? I noticed a lot of people on the street on my way down here."
Julie looked around at the half-empty diner then shook her head. "No, not really. There's a live band down at the bar tonight, so that's probably where everybody's going."
Buffy nodded. "Oh. Yeah, I remember hearing some music, now that you mention it." She smirked. "Not very good music, but I guess it would be all right if you were drunk."
Julie laughed. "Well, in a town this small, we're lucky to get any live music, so I guess we'll just have to take what we can get." She winked then turned away from the table. "At least Bill will make some money tonight selling a lot of alcohol if they're as bad as you say."
Buffy chuckled as Julie walked over to the employee's break table in the corner and sat down. She shook a cigarette out of the pack on the table and lit it then picked up her book. Buffy picked up the ketchup bottle and squeezed a sizeable dollop onto her burger then put the top bun on and smashed it down. She glanced at the placemat as she picked up her burger and winced slightly. Eyebrow. Looked like it was going to be a long and mostly sleepless night.
She forced back the unease her doodle had raised and instead tried to think happy thoughts. She was halfway through her burger, reminiscing about the happier days in Sunnydale, when the bell over the door jingled. She glanced up and quickly looked over the newcomer. Not local, she didn't think, at least she'd never seen him before. He was dressed like a biker – tight black jeans and t-shirt, heavy boots, and a motorcycle jacket. His outfit was so something that Spike would wear – and look amazingly yummy in – but this guy wasn't Spike. His hair was long and black and hung in wild tangles around his face, probably from being whipped in the wind as he rode since Wyoming didn't have a helmet law.
His eyes were dark and intense as they landed on her, and she shivered as the back of her neck started tingling. It felt like he was looking into her very soul, and it was kind of creeping her out. He kept his gaze locked on her as he walked slowly over to her table and stopped just out of arm's reach. Her arms, not his. "Would you mind if I joined you, Sl… uh… miss?"
XXXX
He backed the bike into the curb across from a small motel and set the kickstand then pulled the charm out of its pocket as he tucked the keys into another one. The sun had set a few minutes ago, and in the gradually darkening evening, the charm glowed an eye-watering green. The left side was pulsing steadily in a slightly brighter green and Spike stepped off the bike and onto the sidewalk, turning in that direction. The pulse moved to the top of the charm and Spike started walking down the sidewalk. He figured he'd check the tiny town first, and if the charm started leading him out of it, then he'd come back for the bike.
He passed a noisy bar that had crap music pouring out of it and had to clap his hands over his ears to keep his ear drums from rupturing. Whoever was playing that guitar obviously had no idea what the hell they were doing, and Spike was suddenly grateful that Angelus hadn't found that person back when he'd been evil. Being forced to listen to that screeching tripe until his ears bled would've been a perfect torture according to his tosser of a Grandsire.
He hurried past the bar, keeping his hands over his ears until the music was at a tolerable level then he dropped them and checked the charm again. The green pulsing was becoming more pronounced as he neared a small diner about three blocks up the street. He pocketed the charm and stopped walking for a second, tilting his head and closing his eyes as he extended his senses, the familiar tingle on the back of his neck making him shiver. There. The Slayer.
He continued on and stopped just outside the diner, leaning forward to peek in the window. The place was half empty and he scanned the patrons quickly, drawing in a quick breath when his eyes lit on the slim brunette in the back corner. Buffy. He raked his gaze over every bit of her that he could see; taking in her long, lush hair and the healthy glow of her skin. Then she smiled and his undead heart twitched. She was ravishing, more beautiful than she'd ever been, and she looked happy, like she'd finally put all the misery and heartache of her previous life behind her. He watched her take a healthy bite of her burger, still smiling over whatever she was thinking about, and he felt a pang of guilt because he was about to wipe that smile off her face and drag her back into the life of the Slayer.
He had the sudden thought that maybe he wouldn't have to. He could keep watch, wait for the creatures to make their move and handle it when they did. She'd never have to know and could keep living this new life. This normal life. His hands clenched into fists as he shook his head. No, it would never work. Although the creatures couldn't come after her themselves, there was no telling what sort of demons they'd get to do the job. He couldn't protect her if they attacked during the day, and for the first time in his existence; he cursed the fact that he was a vampire.
He took a deep breath and unclenched his fists. "Balls. There's nothin' for it. I have to tell her." He sighed and stepped toward the door. "Looks like I'm 'bout to be punched in the nose… repeatedly."
He pulled open the door and stepped into the diner, keeping his eyes averted as she looked up from her plate. He walked slowly toward her table, only faltering slightly when he finally raised his eyes and locked gazes with her. The tingling on the back of his neck amped up several notches and he took a few deep breaths to calm himself as he stopped next to her table, far enough back that she'd have to get up to start pounding on him. He opened his mouth to speak then snapped it shut. The glamour changed the pitch and timbre of his voice, but it didn't alter his speech patterns or accent. He'd have to be careful. He opened his mouth again and asked quietly, "Would you mind if I joined you, Sl… uh… miss?" Balls! He'd almost buggered it up right off the bat!
She looked up at him in surprise, the tingle on the back of her neck stronger now that he was closer. It was vaguely familiar, and she concentrated on it for a second before it dawned on her what it was. It'd been over ten years since she'd felt it, after all, and it was incongruous to this setting, so it hadn't registered at first. Biker guy was a vampire. Her eyes widened as her left hand slipped under the table, headed for the stake in her boot.
Spike registered the sudden uptick in her heartbeat and the way her left hand disappeared under the table, and he backed up a step. "Yes, I'm a vampire and I know you're the Slayer, but I'm not here to fight, I just need to talk to you."
She pulled the stake from her boot and clenched it tight in her fist as she nodded at the bench across the table from her. "Fine. Talk. But one wrong move…"
He lifted his hands, keeping them in plain view as he slipped into the booth, then he rested them on the tabletop. "I know, I know, you'll stake me good and proper. Not like I've never heard that before." Her eyes narrowed and he had to press his hand against the table to keep from smacking himself in the forehead. 'Git! Try thinkin' before you speak for once in your unlife!'
She leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest, subtly showing him the stake before she tucked it under her arm. "So? Talk."
He cleared his throat. "Right. Okay, the thing is… there's these creatures from a different dimension, and they're… uh… hunting you."
She frowned, "Me? Why?" then she chuckled bitterly, "Stupid question. I'm me… that's why."
He nodded. "Yeah. Um… they'd planned to move their entire civilization to this dimension, but they've hit a snag. Slayers. They're… uh… well… allergic to you, I suppose is the easiest way to explain it."
Buffy laughed. "Allergic? That's new. Do they break out in a rash? Start sneezing their six-eyed heads off or something?"
Spike chuckled. "Not exactly. From what they've told me they… uh… explode if they get within a few hundred yards or so of a slayer, and with there bein' so soddin' many now, pretty much everywhere… uh… it doesn't leave very many places for them to inhabit that would also contain enough of their food source."
Her eyes narrowed a fraction then she relaxed her features as she concentrated on the vamp tinglies. There was something familiar about this vampire, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. "And why do they want to move here? No wait… let me guess… they don't have Starbucks or movies in their dimension, so they're coming here to get their pumpkin spice latte fix and watch the Barbie movie."
Spike smiled slightly then his mouth turned down into a frown. "No, their… uh… food supply has been driven almost to extinction and…"
"We have a viable substitute." Spike nodded. "Which is?"
"Humans."
Buffy snorted. "Of course it is. Couldn't be something we wouldn't mind getting rid of, like mosquitoes or cockroaches or politicians, could it?" She sighed deeply and looked up at the ceiling. "And we have another apocalypse. Why am I not surprised?" She dropped her head and narrowed her eyes again. "And you tracked me down to tell me this because? I'm not the only slayer anymore, there's thousands of them now, and I haven't done any slaying at all for like a decade. Why not just get a message to the Council? Why not bother Faith during her freaking dinner? They could've handled this." She waved her hand around the diner. "I'm trying to enjoy my well-deserved retirement, so why come here and…"
"Bugger up your new life? I bloody well didn't want to, pet. Last thing I wanted was to drag you back into this shite, not after Niblet and…" The look on her face made him stutter to a halt and he sighed as he tipped his head back and closed his eyes. "Oh… balls."