All About Spike - Plain Version
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I'm not sure where this is going, or
even if it's going. Reviews appreciated, etc.
I don't own any of these characters.
After she got home, Buffy found
she just couldn’t move. She kept seeing the look on his face, feeling the twist
in her chest as she told him.It kept
unreeling itself in her mind.She knew
she wouldn’t be able to erase that look from her memory; it would stay there, a
reproach to add to all her others, till she’d fixed it. “I can’t love
you.”Now she knew why her Dad had
always said, “This is gonna hurt me more than it’s gonna hurt you.”Once, centuries ago, she’d kept going with
the hope of Spike’s humiliation; now, she flinched at the thought of having
administered it. When had that happened?
Some subtle sea change had occurred in her, and she wanted to pinpoint
it, so she could have a perimeter. When had she started to flinch at his pain?
When he’d first told her he loved her? When he almost died at Glory’s hands,
and still didn’t tell?She looked
around at the same old living room, and struggled to make a mental list of all
the things that had happened here, to fix in her mind some framework of events,
but it didn’t work because too much had gone on here, too many things had
defied reason.It wasn’t a house where
she could reminisce about happy graduations, or simple days. Her mother had
died here; Giles had slept here, she and Spike had sat at opposite sides of the
table with her mother in between, glaring, while they forged an alliance. Years
later, they had forged a different alliance on that couch, one of desire and
emotion, a conspiracy against loneliness. No. Nothing normal there. No comfort.
She thought of
their house in LA, and knew that that was the last true refuge she’d had,
really, till Spike, and she suddenly wanted to see it so badly she ached.
There, at least, she had been an innocent girl, completely unaware of future and
fate, unless it involved feverish yearnings about Christian Slater and Jon Bon
Jovi. How long had it been?
twenty-one; it had been six years. She’d killed and killed and killed, slaying
God only knows how many vampires, demons, and various creatures. Even a god.
Her existence had been shaped by killing, and she had fled that reality into
Spike’s bed. That had worked only as long as she could keep herself from
looking at what she’d been doing to him.
She’d looked at her feelings through someone else’s eyes, and what she
had seen had been Parker.She was
rattled all the way around. Who’d have thought it would be Riley to administer
the wake up call?
That was the
worst part. She had finally seen herself, and it made her feel dirty. She’d worried
about what her friends would think of her for sleeping with him; now nothing
they had done together could bother her half so much as what others would think
of her for using him like that, for taking his love, and not giving anything
There was a soft
knock on the door, but Bufy didn’t even bother getting up. She knew who it was.
After a moment, Tara stepped inside. She looked at Buffy slouching on the sofa
and shook her head sympathetically. “Buffy---what’s wrong?”
herself. “Riley walked in on Spike and me.”
She sat down on the couch next to Buffy.”Were you…?”
“No.” Buffy said
quietly. “We were asleep.And Spike
was…Well. That doesn’t matter.” She said. It somehow didn’t seem right to
criticize him when he hadn’t been doing anything that was against his
morals, and she had.She didn’t have a
lot of wiggle room there. “I just…” She gulped. “I---I---saw what I was doing
to him all of a sudden. Just like that. It was like I could see both of us,
and---and---He sure looked a lot better than me.”
“Oh, Buffy…” Tara wrapped her arm around Buffy’s shoulder.
“You’re going through a lot…”
“That’s not the
point.I might be going through a lot,
but I’m pulling him with me…He loves me, and this is what I’ve been doing to
him, and I’m supposed to be good, I’m supposed to be….” She hunched over her
lap, shoulders slumping in defeat.“He
loves me.” She whispered. “I went back and I told him, I told him, I couldn’t
keep doing that to him, that I couldn’t love him…”
“I have to do
something.” She whispered. “I have to fix it.”
simply couldn’t think of anything to say.
“I’m not bad, am
I? Even though I act bad?”
“Buffy,” Tara said
carefully.“Even good people sometimes
do bad things. You didn’t intend to hurt him, did you?”
whispered. “But I didn’t try not to hurt him. I didn’t even think about
him. And now he’s all I can think about, because what I was doing to him…”
“Buffy…” Tara said
helplessly.On the one hand, Buffy was
tearing her up inside about using Spike; but on the other hand she herself had
seen Spike’s face.She’d seen what
Glory had done to him, and had noticed how abruptly Buffy had brought him into
things.Because he was useful, she had
thought.But maybe more than that, and
a lot sooner than Buffy herself thought. This had started a long time ago.
Buffy hugged her
arms around herself, and frantically ran through scenarios in her head.
Apologize again. What good would that do? She suddenly saw the crypt, as it had
been when she left him, and felt the bottom drop out of her stomach.She had done that to him; he literally had
no place left.
A memory came
back to her, of her stomping into his crypt yet again, to find him perched cross-legged
on the tomb, a newspaper in his hands. One look at her face, and he’d tossed
the magazine aside. “What is it? What---“
“Glory found us.
Can you get us a vehicle, can you…?” Knowing, she thought, that he would steal
a vehicle, knowing somewhere in the back of her mind what she was asking him to
do, but just not admitting it. Always, always, silencing that little voice.
And he’d gotten a
vehicle and taken them away. But it wasn’t her fault the vehicle had been
stolen. Not at all. She was blameless; all she’d done was make the request; it
had nothing to do with her if he chose the usual Spike method to fulfill it.
Nope. Not her problem at all.
I’m so scared.
I’m so scared. Don’t leave me.Bodies
slamming up against plaster, through plaster, frantic kisses….She closed her
eyes and closed off the memory.Quick
review time: Angel, giving her a cross and a claddagh ring; Parker, giving her
a complex; and Riley giving something with one hand while he took something
else away with the other. And then Spike; no presents there, unless you counted
saving her life, her sister’s, her friends’, and enduring torture on top of
it.Beyond telling her he loved her,
plus some embroidery upon the basic phrase, no torrents of words from Spike, no
pickup lines, no pretense.
looked down at her hands. “How do you think he’ll take it?”
“Well….” Buffy said, staring off into the distance. “He could
turn evil and try to destroy the world, except oh, that was Angel, and oh,
yeah, Spike was the one trying to save the world. Of course at the time he did
think of the world as being like a big buffet, but still, vampire, right? No
chip then.Or, if he was Riley, he
could always hire some vamp ho to suck him off and then blame it all on
me.Not to mention bitch at me because
I’m the Slayer and Mom’s dying kinda killed all the desire to shag.” She
sniffled loudly.“I should’ve felt this
bad ages ago, you know? I can’t believe…”
“Buffy, your Mom
died, and then you.”
Buffy insisted stubbornly. There’s nothing wrong with me, remember? You said so
yourself.Nothing. Would it have been
better if I’d been robbing banks? You wouldn’t make excuses for me then,
because there wouldn’t be.”
quietly gathered her strength. “You got pulled back from heaven, Buffy. And you
had to go right back to work. Your mom’s dead, your sister’s a delinquent, and
your boyfriend took off blaming you because he went to vamp hos. Hey, I know.
Stop me when I get to the fun part.”
“That’s why it doesn’t work for me, Tara. All
that happened, and it’s all true. But I had the choice not to hurt someone
else, or hurt them, and I picked the second one. It stopped being okay, the
minute we…” The minute I kissed him, knowing how he felt. She took a deep breath. “How am I supposed to
know if it was just the circumstances, or him? People under stress do strange
things. But what if it was him, just him?”
She stopped and looked over at Tara. “Oh. My. God.”
She got as far
as the edge of the cemetery before her nerves quailed.Demons? No problem.Vampires?
Child’s play. Save the world? How many times?
Apologize to guy who happens to be vampire, whom you
impulsively shagged numerous times, knowing full well he loved you---Oh, God.
Funnily enough, now that she’d actually admitted it, she could think about the
sex. Thinking about it made her feel a little light-headed, a little shaky, and
a few other things she wasn’t used to acknowledging.
entering the cemetery, she hesitated at the boundary, then idly began walking
along it. She was halfway around when she came to the funeral home---huge,
castle-like house, because funeral directors in Sunnydale made more money than
rock stars----when she noticed the dumpster discreetly located at the rear. The
lid had been flipped open, and she went to investigate.
What she saw made
her bite her lip. It was full of bits and pieces, almost all of them burnt or
partially melted. It made her sick to her stomach. Once again, she tried to
summon the anger she’d felt at Spike during their relationship, but it just
wouldn’t come.You knew what he was.
Taking a deep
breath for resolve, she jumped lightly over the fence and headed in the
direction of his crypt.She was hoping
he wasn’t going to be there. That would be nice. For me, she thought. Not for
She was almost
out of the trees near his crypt when the door
opened, and Spike, his arms full of blackened and burnt shapes, came out
and headed in her direction.She
stepped out of the shadows, and he saw her. Stopped still in his tracks, the
cigarette dropping from his lips onto his hand. With a curse, he dropped the
armload of stuff and rubbed the red mark on his hand.He kept his head down so long, supposedly looking at the mark,
that she realized he didn’t want to look at her. Her face burned.
“Want me to….?”
She really didn’t know how to finish that. Want me to kiss it and make it
“Look, Buff,” he
said finally, gently, as she hadn’t spoken. “Not tonight, okay? I’m about done
“That’s kind of
why I came.” She said quietly. “To see if I could help.”
“Help with what?”
He coked his head at her, puzzled, then drew back, hurt. “I’m not leaving,
Slayer, no matter what happens! I’m staying.”
“I’m not asking you to,” Buffy said quietly.“I’m just here to help. You. Do. Something.”
“What is this?”
Buffy stepped past
him, into the tomb, to look around. Something else she needed to do, so she could
more accurately blame herself.The
crypt looked terrible; nothing in it appeared to unscorched, and when she
descended halfway down the ladder, it was even worse.Everything there was black; the rugs burnt like tissue paper, and
burnt books scattered everywhere. Abashed, she turned around and went back
Spike blinked at
her, startled. “Why are you here?”
So help her God,
she couldn’t say it.Two simple little
words. I’m sorry.“I wanted to
help. Clean. Up.”
“Why? Feeling guilty?”
She looked down,
bracing herself, then whispered. “Yes.”
Spike looked at
her, hard, then laughed. He couldn’t help himself. From mortal enemy to
whipping boy to shag bunny to pity project. What a trajectory. Everything but
love.Well, he had his limits. “No
thanks, pet. No pity, please.”
“I don’t –what?” She flushed. “I don’t feel sorry for you or
anything.”She had the grace to squirm,
just a bit. “But I do feel bad about your crypt.”
“Oh, do you? Gonna
help me clean up the mess?”
startled him; he had to look at her to confirm it. She did feel bad. “Tell you
what, pet, raincheck, okay? Not in the mood right now.”
“What do you
“I mean, I’m just
not ready for the let’s be friends stage. Matter of fact,” he said
thoughtfully, “I’m not sure it wouldn’t be a bad idea for us to just go back to
hating each other.”
“I don’t hate
“You sure?” He
asked hopefully.“Maybe I could go to
law school or something.”
“Why do you want
me to hate you?”
“Because at least
it would be something.” He looked away. “Something real. I knew you didn’t love
me, but I hoped, I thought, after all the things we did… Stupid. But at least I
know how to be hated; I know the rules there.”
“I can’t.” Buffy
said truthfully. Not after everything. “I don’t think I could hate you again.
“Covers a lot of
“Can’t do it.” She insisted. “And don’t try and make me.”Wait. Wait.
Too soon to be the friendly ex-whats, she thought. Too soon to even try
that; it seemed flippant to dismiss his feelings so soon, even dishonorable.
“I’m sorry, Spike. I just can’t. Because I’d have to hate myself then, too, and
I’ve done enough of that for the rest of my life, however long that’s going to
be. But I don’t think I can hate you. Now.” She looked around. “Where should we
“Got any bricks?”
He asked wryly. “Because it’s like the world’s largest omelet back there. Need
a hell of a big spatula back there.”
“Ew.”Buffy said.She looked away, then, uncomfortable, then grew still more
nervous as the silence drew on and filled with the memories of kisses and
embraces and more. Spike, running his hands through her hair as she undulated
on top of him, sweaty and abandoned.Curling
up together, fitting perfectly, as long as there were no words to make her
think. Not looking at him now, not daring, she stared off to one side, and
blurted out the thing on her mind: “What were you doing, Spike? What were you
going to do with them?”
“Huh? Oh. Oh.”
He lit another cigarette and perched on a broken pillar. “Holding them for a
friend, that’s all.” For a lot of
money. So you wouldn’t have to work in that awful place for a while.
didn’t know what they were?”
He snorted disgustedly
at his own carelessness, shaking his head. “When I think of all the stupid
things I did that I didn’t get caught, and now there’s this…”
She was looking
away again, and he could practically feel the blood beating in her face. Her
face must be as red as an apple by now.
“Would it feel better---Would it make you feel better if you hit me?”
in one conversation, he just had to laugh. He tried to remember the self he’d
been five years earlier, and shook his head at the distance between that Spike
and this one. “Can’t do it, luv.”
“Only if I don’t
let you.” She said quietly. “I think I’d let you.”
“Because I hit
you. I shouldn’t have.”
revenge, pet.” I want you.
Buffy said softly. “I’d want revenge.” She didn’t finish the thought. Because
you couldn’t do that to someone you loved. If he hit her, she could convince
herself that he didn’t love her anymore.
then.” Spike said thoughtfully. “Want to make it up to me?”
qualifiers there, he noted. She trusted him.
She glanced down
at her lap. He got up and scanned the crypt, searching for something.
Aha! He seized it
with a triumphant cry.
It was a shovel. She
looked from it to him, and back again.
Spike said quietly. “You get to clean up the omelet.”
Continued in Part Two: Beginning of Summer
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