Summary: Sequel to Bring Me To Life. What if Spike had a chance to go back to the beginning? Could he change the outcome of their fate, or has it already been pre-determined? Follow them on this new and somewhat mystical journey, as they rediscover what it means to live and love.
Rating: NC-17
To say that dinner had gone well would be a lie. It was going pretty smoothly until her father had walked in late and promptly began to interrogate their dinner guest. She hated it when her father got all dominating and scary. It happened quite often, but it was always more embarrassing in front of guests. She could tell that Spike was uncomfortable, so Buffy didn't blame him when he left the table early to go smoke a cigarette.
Hank's conclusion of Spike had been negative. Big surprise there. Unless somebody was as rich and powerful as he was, he had a hard time accepting them. He basically decided that Spike was nothing more than a punk, milking the situation for all it was worth. Joyce had been outraged by her husband's opinion of the man outside, while Buffy mentally wondered if there was such a thing as disowning your own father.
Sighing to herself, Buffy set down the towel she had been using to dry the dishes. She glanced out the window again and nibbled on her bottom lip. Spike still sat there, gazing up at the stars with a thoughtful expression on his face. She didn't want to bother him, but she did want to apologize for the way her father had acted earlier.
Pulling her eyes from the open window, she stepped away from the sink and approached the back door.
Spike's thoughts were interrupted by the door squeaking open behind him. He assumed it was Buffy, so he didn't turn around.
"Somebody shoot me," came the familiar voice, as she sat down beside him on the step.
Spike looked at her sharply, unable to quell the nausea that those three, harmless words brought to him. "Don't say that," he said seriously.
Buffy arched a brow at his tone. "It's just a play on words. Lighten up."
"Right." He stubbed out his cigarette and kicked it into the grass. It was probably best to change the subject. "So, did Daddy Dearest finally retire to bed for the night?"
"Not likely. He's probably locked away in his office arguing with a client about God knows what. And speaking of--"
Spike shook his head. "Don't bother."
"Why not? My dad can be a complete prick sometimes. I should apologize for the way he acted."
"He has every right to be cautious or whatnot. I don't exactly look like the bloke next door," he reasoned.
"Hey, how do you know the guy next door doesn't dress in black and bleach his hair?"
"Very funny."
Buffy smiled. "Don't worry. Dad's just... protective. He thinks that every guy who so much as glances in my direction, plans on corrupting his only daughter."
"Well, I can safely say I have no intention of doing any such thing," Spike said.
"See? Nothing to worry about then."
He leaned back on his hands and looked up at the sky. "Yeah."
"You don't sound too convincing," Buffy teased. "You sure corruption isn't on your 'To Do' list for the week?"
The look in his eyes didn't hold the same mirth as her own did. They were cold--distanced. Pained.
Buffy shivered.
Spike fixated his gaze on a small constellation. He didn't know what it was, nor did he care. As long as he was looking anywhere but to his right. She was so close to him and if he moved just a bit, their knees would be touching. Her body heat both comforted him and unnerved him at the same time. He was grateful for her presence, he was grateful she was alive and well and that she smelled so damn good, yet he was scared to death. He wanted this over with, yet he didn't want it to end.
With a defeated sigh, Spike reached into his coat pocket and pulled out another cigarette.
"Jeez, is that all you do?" Buffy asked with an arch of her brow.
"It calms me," he said, flicking his lighter.
Buffy watched in fascination as he lit the cigarette. She didn't smoke, nor did any of her friends, but she couldn't help but find the act incredibly sexy. "So, um..." She paused for a moment, wondering if he was bothered by her presence. When he made no move to stop her, she continued. "So what's your story?"
"My story?"
"Yeah. You know... your story. What made you come to California? I-I mean, I'm guessing you weren't born here since you're all British and stuff..." she rambled.
"No story really," came the curt reply.
Buffy waited for him continue. He didn't. "Oh. Well... oh." She cleared her throat. "Neat."
Spike glanced at her. He wanted so badly to open up to her, to let her become a part of his life again. But she was so different... this was so different... "It's getting late," he said.
The dreaded conversation killer. Buffy wasn't completely stupid--she could take a hint. "Right. Sorry to bother you."
And with that, she stood up and hurried inside, letting the door slam shut behind her.
Spike cursed to himself. He had no right to be treating her like this. She could never understand his reasons and she didn't deserve his indifference. If she only knew how he really felt...
"Fuck it," he said to himself and stomped out his cigarette. He reached for his crutches and made his way inside the house. "Buffy?" He listened carefully and the soft sound of footsteps could be heard from above. She was in her room. With a sigh of frustration, he headed over to the elevator.
When the doors opened, Spike stepped out into the hallway and approached her bedroom door. Swallowing back his hesitation, he knocked lightly.
"Just a minute," said the voice on the other side. A few seconds passed and she stood before him. "Oh, it's you."
Shame swept over him. The light in her eyes he had seen mere minutes ago had faded. She was obviously upset with him. "Yeah, it's me. I, uh, wanted to apologize... for the way I've been acting." He couldn't help but notice the fact that she'd changed into her pajamas. Pebbled nipples poked through her fitting, white tank and Spike couldn't help the momentary shift of his gaze. Buffy must have noticed because she blushed and immediately crossed her arms over her chest. He looked down at his shoes, guiltily.
"O-Okay," she muttered. "Is that it?"
"Well, yeah. I mean, I know I've been actin' like a prick lately. It's nothing personal," he explained. He sucked at apologies. "I just thought you should know."
She shrugged. "Fine. Goodnight, William."
Spike stopped the door before it shut in his face. "That's it?" he asked angrily.
"Well, you're not really Mr. Conversation."
"Pardon me for not opening myself up to the girl who almost killed me," he bit back, irritated that his apology had been snubbed.
"Look, I said I was sorry. What more do you want me to say?"
He shook his head. "Forget it."
"William..."
"It's Spike."
Buffy looked stung. "Right," she said and then corrected herself, "Goodnight, Spike."
The door closed, leaving Spike alone in the darkened hallway once again. "'Night, pet," he said dejectedly and then made his way to his own room. He entered carefully and turned on a light, making sure there was nothing he could trip over. When the coast was clear, he sat down on the bed and leaned his crutches against the nightstand. He sat in the same position for over an hour, thinking about nothing and everything, before finally switching off the lamp and crawling underneath the covers.
Familiar green eyes plagued his thoughts, as they did every night. Lost promises and broken dreams haunted him and continued to do so until the moment he opened his eyes.
Morning light shone in through the cracked blinds, erasing the darkness in the room, but not in his heart. He heard Buffy rummaging around in the bathroom and he only then remembered where he was. He shifted in his bed and watched the shadow of her feet move beneath the door, only a few feet from where he lay.
She's so close, he thought to himself. Yet she might as well be a million miles away...
Spike sat up in bed with as much energy as he could muster. Pain raked through his body with every breath he took, and a stream of curse words passed through his dry lips. He knew that the reason he was so miserable was because of the immediate transition to crutches. His body wasn't prepared to take on such a strenuous task so early in his recovery process. He cast a wary glance towards his wheelchair and let out an exasperated sigh.
"Spike."
The sound of his name had an alarmed Spike looking around the room for the source of the voice.
"Spike, it's Buffy. Look behind you."
He did as he was told and then realized her voice was coming from the contraption on the wall. "Bloody machines," he grumbled. He noticed that a little red light was lit next to the label that said 'KITCHEN'. That meant Buffy was speaking to him from the kitchen. Turning his body around the best he could, Spike held down the button and spoke into the speaker. "I'm here," he said.
A moment passed before she replied. "Hey. I just wanted to tell you that I'm off to school now. If you need anything, let my mom know."
"Alright. Before you leave, could you tell her to bring up some meds? It's been a rough morning," he explained, his muscles throbbing in protest.
Silence. Spike was about to ask if she was still there, when a small voice answered, "Are you okay?"
He swallowed. He could have sworn it sounded like she cared. "Yeah," he said. "I'll manage."
A beat and then, "Spike, about last night--"
"Forget it, Buffy."
"Look, I don't have time to argue with you right now. I'm gonna be late. But... can we talk later?"
Spike thought about it and decided that he had two options. He could decline her offer to talk and continue living a miserable life in a house he didn't belong in, and with a girl who shouldn't even exist... or he could say yes and maybe, somehow, he could learn to accept this Buffy and actually let himself be happy for once.
The choice seemed obvious, even to him.
"Of course," he told he softly. "We'll talk later."
"O-Okay. Good. Um, I'll see you later then."
"Alright."
Spike removed his finger from the button and rolled onto his back, trying his best to ignore the pain. It was only moments before he heard Buffy shout a goodbye to her parents and then leave the house.
He glanced at the clock. He had approximately eight hours to think about what he was going to say to Buffy when she returned.
Somehow, that didn't seem long enough.
~~~
Buffy spared her boyfriend an annoyed glance as they pulled into the driveway. "We're just talking, Riley. Will you chill out?"
He scoffed. "I'm not freaking. It just bothers me that you're putting chit chat with Spike before spending quality time with your boyfriend. Talk about priorities."
"Oh, please! We are not having this conversation again."
"You know I'm right."
"Don't be ridiculous," she said. "We'll hang out later, okay?"
He shrugged. "If I'm not busy."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Goodbye, Riley." She then got out of the car and watched as he drove away. What was his deal, anyway? There was absolutely nothing to be jealous over.
Shaking her head, she entered the house and slipped out of her backpack. "I'm home!" she called out.
No answer.
"Fine. Make me feel all unwanted," she pouted. Buffy walked into the kitchen and found a note stuck to the refrigerator door:
Buffy--
I had to run out for a few hours. There's some leftover pizza in the fridge if you or Spike get hungry. Be sure to check on him.
I'll see you tonight.
Love,
Mom
Buffy sighed, unsure of what she was going to say to Spike. She hadn't meant to get so defensive the night before--she just didn't understand him. Okay, so yeah, she almost killed the guy. But she was doing everything in her power to make it up to him. That should count for something, right?
Yeah, maybe in bizzaro world.
Groaning in frustration, Buffy whipped open the refrigerator door and took out the plate of pepperoni and onion pizza. She put a few slices on a plate, warmed it up, and then headed up the stairs to Spike's room. His door was already open, so she let herself in. "Spike? Are you awake?" She noticed movement beneath the covers, so she assumed that he was. But as she got closer, she realized that his eyes were closed--and he was shaking. Buffy quickly set the plate down and ran to his side. "Spike? Are you okay?" He was covered in sweat, as his body convulsed. "Please wake up. I-I don't know what to do."
Spike's eyes fluttered open. "Buffy?" he croaked out.
She sighed in relief and placed her hand against his forehead. "God, you're burning up. What happened?"
"Don't know, I just..." His voice trailed off. "It's bloody freezing in here."
Buffy pulled the blankets all the way up to his chin and then kneeled down beside him. "That better?"
"Thanks," he said, still slightly trembling. Spike tensed as she once again placed her palm against his dampened forehead. This time there was affection in her touch, as she pushed aside a strand of hair.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry I did this to you."
He sucked in a breath as her fingers traveled lightly over his cheek. "Hey, no worries," he said, trying not to let her words effect him.
"How can you say that?" she asked incredulously. She then dropped her hand, stood up, and began to pace the floor. "I-I almost killed you, Spike. And here I expect you to just get over it and be Joe Happy around me. I don't blame you for being moody and avoidy. You have every right to be."
"I don't," he said. "I should be the one apologizing. I've been rude and unfair."
"Like I deserve anything but?"
"Look, Buffy," he tried. He made an attempt to sit up, but his body protested. "I've been actin' like a complete git lately. I know you've done all you can and it's more than enough. Letting me stay here... taking care of me. I should be more grateful."
She shook her head. "I've been crowding you."
"You haven't--"
"No, I have. I can't help it," she explained. "I feel guilty for what happened and I want so badly to make it up to you. But instead of doing that, I've just made it worse. For both of us."
"I appreciate what you're doing for me, I do--"
"A-And I can't help but be fascinated by you, you know? I-I mean, you're just so different from everybody else around me. You're this cute, punked-out British guy who swears and smokes all the time. It's... refreshing. And I want to get to know you better, but I'm trying too hard, and instead of making things right between us, I'm really just pushing you away, and..." Buffy finally stopped ranting when she realized that Spike was looking at her as if she'd grown a second head. She let out a deep breath. "Note to self: Babbling is not cool."
Spike smiled. "I think it's adorable."
"Yeah, well, in some cultures it's also looked upon as insane," she said, blush coloring her cheeks.
"Must be my 'cute, punked-out British' roots."
Buffy smiled back and then mentally scolded herself for calling him cute. "Right. Must be that."
Spike studied her as she stood there, wringing her hands together and looking at him sheepishly. Her hair was up in a high ponytail and she was wearing tight jeans and a pink tube top. She looked good. Too good for a 16-year-old. He sighed. "All's forgiven then?" he wondered.
"I-I don't know. Is it? I don't want things to be weird between us, but I'll understand if you need your space..."
"I think it's just been a bit hard to adjust. I'm not good with change," he said. And what a change it's been...
"I get that," she agreed.
"But despite all that's happened... I'd like to get to know you better, too."
Buffy's head shot up. "Really? You don't think I'm a total spaz?"
"Well, I didn't say that," he teased.
She laughed. "Meanie. I'm serious."
"So am I."
And he was serious. He did want to get to know her better. Because in the end, this was the life he had to live and if he wanted to make the most of it, he should start with accepting this girl for who she was and not for who he wanted her to be.
Buffy smiled, grateful that he was giving her a chance. She knew she probably didn't deserve it for all she'd put him through, but she was still grateful. "Thanks," she said. She was about to continue, when she remembered his fever. Worry replaced her smile and she approached him, feeling his forehead once more. "Spike, you're still sick."
"I'll live," he shrugged, seemingly unconcerned by his raging fever.
"But you could have some sort of horrible infection... o-or blood disease!"
"Doubtful, pet. Your mum told me this morning that I might get a temperature. She says I've been pushing myself too hard or some rot. Says my body is still weak and can't take the extra strain."
"The crutches, right? I had a feeling it was too soon."
"Yeah," he sighed. "The fever should pass. Some drugs might be nice, though."
Buffy nodded. "Right. Advil okay?"
"Sounds great."
Spike watched as she disappeared into the bathroom. His body still shook from the fever and his head throbbed in pain, but he couldn't help the wave of contentment that passed over him. Things would never be the same between him and Buffy--they would never hold hands, or make love, or tell each other 'I love you'. But that was okay.
She was in the world again. She looked different, talked different, even smelled different... but she was still Buffy.
And that was enough for him.
Buffy, Cordelia, and Angel all sat around the big screen TV, munching on popcorn and discussing their day.
"So then," Cordelia explained, waving her hands animatedly through the air. "I was like, 'You want me to go to Homecoming with you? You do realize that I'm Cordelia Chase and I have a reputation to sustain, right?' Besides, the guy's shorter than my Cousin Bernie--and he's a midget."
Buffy chuckled. "Jonathan's not that bad. I feel kinda sorry for him."
"Oh, please, Buffy. You know you'd shoot him down too if he asked you to Homecoming."
"Well, yeah. Boyfriend, remember?"
Angel snorted.
Buffy glared daggers at him.
"Angel has a point," Cordy reasoned. "Riley's kind of dull."
"Dull?" Angel asked incredulously. "I'm dull. The guy puts me to shame."
Cordelia snickered.
"What is it with you guys?" Buffy demanded. "Riley's a great boyfriend. You two are just jealous that you don't have boyfriends as great as Riley."
"Very funny," Angel said.
"I just don't understand why you'd waste your time with him when you could have someone like Spike," Cordelia shrugged.
Buffy's head shot up. "Huh? What are you talking about?"
"I'm just saying," she continued. "You have a total stud living with you and instead you settle for a guy who's still struggling with addition."
"I'm not settling!" Buffy insisted. "Besides, you can't compare the two."
Cordy nodded. "Good point. Comparing them would be like comparing Freddie Prinze Jr. to Johnny Depp. There's really no contest..."
"Hey, maybe I like Freddie." She shook her head. "And that's not what I meant. I meant that you can't compare my boyfriend of two years to some guy I barely know."
"All I'm saying is you should get to know him. Besides, Anya and I saw him checking out your ass yesterday, so I'd say he's definitely interested."
Buffy blushed. "He did not."
"He did," Angel verified.
"You two are just trying to get me to break up with Riley," Buffy said. "Which is not going to happen. So yeah, Spike's a hottie, but so is Parker Abrams. That doesn't necessarily mean I'm going to dump my boyfriend because of it. I like Riley, okay? End of story."
Before either of them could reply, the front door opened.
"Buffy? I'm home," Joyce called out.
"Hey, mom, we're in the living room."
Joyce entered the room and set her grocery bags down on the kitchen table. "Hello, Angel. Cordelia."
"Hi, Mrs. Summers," they both greeted.
"How is Spike? Doing any better?"
Buffy shook her head. "He had a really bad fever when I got home."
"The poor thing," Joyce sighed. "Did you give him some medication?"
"Yeah, I gave him Advil. I think it worked because he's sleeping pretty soundly."
Joyce nodded. "When was the last time you checked on him?"
"About an hour ago."
"Would you mind going up there again? I want to make sure the fever broke. We might have to take him to the hospital if it doesn't let up."
"I'll go, Mrs. Summers," Cordelia offered.
Buffy frowned. "Are you sure? I can do it."
"Don't be silly. I'm perfectly capable," the brunette said. "Be right back."
Buffy and Angel watched in amusement as she disappeared out of the room.
"You know she's just going up there to ogle him," Angel noted.
"Yeah," Buffy said. "As long as she keeps her hands to herself..."
~~~
Cordelia cracked open the bedroom door and peeked inside. Yum, she thought to herself. Spike was lying in bed, shirt off, and with a light sheen of sweat covering his body.
She cleared her throat. Loudly.
Spike jerked awake and draped an arm over his eyes. "Buffy?"
"Nope. It's her much more attractive friend," Cordelia stated proudly.
He removed his arm from his face and blinked twice. "Cordelia, right?"
"Good call." She gracefully moved towards the bed and sat down beside him. "So, I'm guessing your fever broke since you're all sweaty and stuff."
"Uh, yeah. Guess so."
"Do you need anything? Maybe a back rub or a neck rub..."
Spike chuckled. "No thanks, love. Where's Buffy?"
She smiled knowingly. "Downstairs. With Angel."
"Oh," he said.
"Yeah, she was supposed to come up, but she was too busy... y'know, with Angel..."
"I see..."
"Yep, her and Angel. They're like this." She linked her index and middle fingers together. "Super tight."
Spike nodded. "Good. That's... good."
"Hey."
The two looked over to see Buffy standing in the doorway.
"Hey, Buffy," Cordelia grinned. "Where's Angel?"
"Downstairs helping Mom put groceries away. Why?"
Cordelia sighed dramatically. "Wow. What a champ," she said and then glanced over at Spike. "Isn't he just a champ?"
"Er... yeah."
Buffy frowned. "Are you okay, Cordy?"
"Uh-huh! I should be going now, though. I have a manicure at seven. See ya!" She stood up and gave Buffy a wink. "He's all yours," she whispered and left the room.
Buffy and Spike looked at each other awkwardly as silence fell between them.
"Well," Spike said, clearing his throat. "She's... interesting."
Buffy nodded. "Yeah, that's Cordelia Chase for you. Although she's not usually that interesting. She must've eaten some bad popcorn or something."
He chuckled. "Guess that would explain it then."
To be honest, Buffy had no idea what Cordelia was plotting. Cordy knew damn well that Buffy had no intention of leaving Riley, so if this was her idea of playing Matchmaker, it wasn't going to work. She sensed an angry phone call in the near future. "So," she said, deciding to deal with Cordelia later. "How are you feeling?"
"Better, actually. Fever's gone," he replied.
"That's great, Spike. I was kinda worried there for a while. Can I get you anything?"
"I am a bit hungry," he said. "Mind helpin' me down to the kitchen?"
"Not at all. I'll get your wheelchair."
Spike cringed in protest, but decided that it was for the best. He should hold off on using the crutches until he was back to full health--there was no point in pushing himself, since it obviously just made his condition worse. "Thanks, pet."
After Buffy helped Spike into his wheelchair, they made their way downstairs and into the kitchen. Angel was pulling groceries out of a brown paper bag, while Joyce put them away.
"So, what did you want to eat?" Buffy asked Spike.
Angel turned to look at them. "We've got quality apples here. Interested?"
Spike shrugged. "Sure."
"Catch."
Angel tossed him an apple and Spike bit into it.
"We've got other stuff, too," Buffy said. "Like pizza, chicken, macaroni and cheese... you know, more meal-y kinds of food." Suddenly, Buffy's cell phone rang. "Hold on a sec. Angel, could you get him something?"
Angel nodded, while Buffy stepped out of the room.
"Hello?" she answered.
"Did it work?"
Buffy groaned. "Hi, Cordy. And I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes, you do. I'm talking about my subtle attempts at making Spike jealous. It's classic matchmaking material."
"Oh yeah, you were real smooth," the blonde rolled her eyes.
"Well, did it work?"
"No, it didn't. Will you please stop meddling?" Buffy pleaded. "I don't want to be with Spike. I want to be with Riley."
"Hey, I was just trying to help. Riley's no good for you--we both know that," Cordy told her.
"According to you."
"And Angel."
"That's because Angel's jealous of Riley! He'll do whatever he can just to get into my pants," Buffy said, exasperation in her tone. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she continued. "Look, I appreciate you looking out for me and all, but I don't need a matchmaker. I need a friend. And if you want to be my friend, you have to promise me that you'll stay out of my business and quit trying to break up my relationship with Riley. Got it?"
"Okay, okay." Cordelia was silent for a moment, before adding, "So, if you don't want Spike, can I have him?"
Buffy sighed. "You know what? I really don't care. If you think Spike's so hot, then take him. Just leave me out of it."
"Thanks, Buffy! You're the best!"
"Yeah, whatever. Talk to you later?"
"I'll be here. Ciao."
"Bye." Buffy clicked her phone off and shoved it back into her pocket. When she returned to the kitchen, Angel was looking at her with a pained expression on his face. Before she could ask him what was wrong, he hurried past her and left the house. Buffy flinched when the front door slammed shut. "Jeez, was it something I said?"
Spike eyed her, trying not to let his own pain show.
"I don't want to be with Spike. I want to be with Riley."
He shook the words from his mind. "Actually, yeah. Think it was."
Buffy blinked. "What did I say?" She went over the conversation with Cordelia in her mind, trying to remember what all she had said. Then she realized: That's because Angel's jealous of Riley! He'll do whatever he can just to get into my pants. She gulped. "Crap."
Spike nodded.
"God! I'm a horrible friend. Not only do I hurt Angel, but I also go and pawn you off to Cordelia." She glanced at him. "Sorry about that, by the way."
"It's alright. She's cute," Spike shrugged.
Buffy frowned. "Oh. So, um, you're interested then?"
"Maybe."
"I see. That works out then. Besides, Cordy's a year older than me. Almost legal," she laughed lightly.
Spike gave her a tight smile. To be honest, he wasn't very interested at all. Yeah, Cordelia was attractive... but she was no Buffy. "Well, I'm goin' to eat. Angel warmed up some leftover pizza. Care to join me?"
"No thanks. I'm not very hungry," Buffy said. Somehow the idea of Spike and Cordelia wasn't sitting well with her. When she'd told Cordy over the phone that she could have Spike, she didn't think for a second that it would actually happen. Not that Buffy was jealous or anything... she just didn't think that they would make a very good couple. "I think I'm gonna go watch some TV. Family Guy's on in a minute."
"Suit yourself," Spike replied. He studied her as she sat down on the couch and became enthralled in the television program. Her laughter filled his ears as he ate, and it was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard.
Yeah, Cordelia was definitely no Buffy. She didn't even compare.
Buffy rolled onto her side, coming face to face with the man she... loved. That was the right word, right? Love? She supposed that she loved Riley. They'd been together for so long. They'd been through so much.
Yet, when they had sex, Buffy didn't feel that all-consuming passion one would associate with love. Instead she felt numb inside. She felt worn and scared and insecure. And when it was over, she felt even worse. Like she'd been used.
But she couldn't tell Riley that. What would he think of her?
Taking a deep breath, she tapped her boyfriend on the shoulder. It was past eight o'clock and her dad would be coming home soon. "Riley," she whispered. "Riley, get up."
No response.
She tapped him harder. "Riley. It's time to go. My dad will freak if he finds you in here."
"Oomph," came the gruff reply.
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Get up, will you?"
"I'm up, I'm up," he finally said. "I don't understand why I can't stay the night."
"It's a school night, remember? And again, the whole dad issue comes up. You know how he gets."
Riley sat up with a stretch. "Your dad likes me."
"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure he doesn't like you in bed with me."
"I guess," he said, scratching his chest. "I'll go then."
She smiled. "Thanks. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"G'night, babe." He leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the lips, before slipping back into his clothes and leaving the room.
Buffy sighed and flopped back down onto the bed. She lay there for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling, before her cell phone rang. She rolled her eyes, suspecting it was Cordelia, and quickly answered. "Cordy, if this has something to do with me and Riley or me and Spike, I'll save you some minutes and hang up now."
There was silence for a moment, before a different voice replied. "Well, I've obviously missed some interesting developments. Care to fill me in?"
"Anya?" Buffy asked sheepishly. "My bad. I thought you were--"
"Cordelia. We've established that."
"Right. Sorry. And it's nothing. Cordy's just been on my case lately about my relationships. It's really no big."
"I see," she said. "Well, I just called to tell you that I won't be able to do dinner tomorrow night. Our volleyball game was pushed back a day."
"Damn, that sucks. It's our Wednesday night tradition."
"I know, I know. But it's out of my hands. You guys have fun, though. Maybe you can bring Spike along, instead."
"Yeah, maybe." Although Buffy was disappointed that their tradition was being broken, it could be fun to integrate a new face into the group. "Well, thanks for letting me know. I'll see you tomorrow at school."
"Alright. Bye, Buffy."
She clicked off the phone and set it back down on her nightstand. She then climbed out of bed, slipped into some sweat shorts, and made her way through the bathroom and to Spike's bedroom door. She hesitated for a moment before knocking softly.
"Come in, love."
Buffy smiled to herself and entered the large guest room. "Hey, you," she said casually.
"Hey, you," he acknowledged back. He closed the book he was reading and looked up at her. "What brings you here? The fever hasn't been back, if that's what you're after."
"That's great. But I actually came by to invite you out to dinner tomorrow night."
"Oh?" he asked, curiously.
"Yeah, it's sort of this tradition the five of us have--me, Cordy, Angel, Riley, and Anya. For the past year we've all gone out to Bill's Pub for dinner on Wednesday nights. It's just this pizza place a few miles outside of Sunnydale. It's a bit cheesy, I know, but we love it."
"And you want me to tag along?" Spike wondered. "I wouldn't want to break tradition or anything."
Buffy took another step towards his bed. "Already been broken," she said. "Anya has a volleyball game tomorrow night and can't make it. She suggested that you come with instead, and I thought it was a good idea, so... you interested?"
He paused for a moment before answering. "Well, I'd have to check my calendar. My schedule's been pretty booked lately, as you've probably noticed."
She laughed. "So, is that a yes?"
"That's a yes," he smiled.
"Great." Buffy stood there, hands linked behind her, rocking back and forth on the heels of her feet. She knew she should say something else before the silence turned awkward but nothing sprung to mind. "So..."
Spike watched her as she fidgeted before him. Her tank top inched up with each movement, exposing more and more of her tanned stomach.
"Well, I better go so you can get back to your book..." Buffy suddenly said, turning to leave.
"No, wait." He shook his mind of the not-so-proper mental images that were beginning to surface, and tossed the book to the floor. "Have a seat."
She raised an eyebrow. "A-Are you sure? Because I could go--"
"Don't be silly. I could use the company."
There was a brief moment of hesitation, before Buffy shrugged and approached the bedside. "Okay. If you're sure." She sat down next to him, her back resting against the headboard. She gave him a small smile before focusing her eyes on the blanket's embroidery.
Spike shifted under the covers, feeling a bit unnerved by her proximity. But he quickly brushed it aside, determined to have an actual conversation with this girl, without his pesky emotions getting in the way. "So, Buffy Summers," he began. "Tell me something about yourself that I wouldn't know."
She gave him a quick glance and pulled her knees up to her chest. "Why so interested?"
"Just making conversation is all."
Buffy cleared her throat. "Right then. Well, my favorite color is pink--"
"That one's a given."
She looked down at her pink shorts and pink-painted toenails, then blushed prettily. "Point taken."
Spike grinned at her.
"Ummm..." Buffy raked her brain for something interesting to tell him. "Oh! I can do this." She promptly got on her knees to face him and opened her mouth, rolling her tongue into three sections.
Spike stared in awe. "Now that's just..."
"Totally cool, I know," she giggled.
He laughed with her. "What else?"
"Well... I'm in cheerleading and yearbook at my high school. My GPA is 3.4, which I'm pretty happy with, but Dad thinks it should be higher. I have this irrational fear of spiders. My favorite band is Maroon 5. I could watch Pretty Woman over and over and never get sick of it. Uhhh... oh, and I used to have a hamster named Dawn but she died in a freak motorcycle accident."
"Beg your pardon?"
"Yeah, it was so tragic. I let her out of her cage, and she ran out into the street when Mom came in with the groceries. A motorcycle happened to be going by at that exact moment, and... well, squish."
Spike blinked. "Wow, that's... terrible. And awfully bizarre."
"I'm still recovering," she sighed. "Now tell me something about yourself, mystery man."
"I'm not all that mysterious, love."
"Aw, c'mon. You must have a few dark secrets up your sleeve."
"What makes you think that?" he asked.
Buffy shrugged. "Everybody has at least one deep, dark secret."
"And I'm guessing yours is that unfathomable love for Pretty Woman ?" he teased.
She swatted at his chest. "Hey, shut up! I bet you've never even seen it."
"I'll admit that I haven't. I tend to stay away from movies that star Julia Roberts."
"She's so amazing. You, my friend, have no taste."
Spike shook his head. "Whatever you say, Summers."
She gave him a smile that made Spike's insides melt, and then slipped underneath the covers.
"It's chilly in here," she explained.
All he did was nod, as he tried to ignore the fact that her bare legs were almost touching his. He could feel her body heat and it was making his head spin. "So, uh... anything else you'd like to know?" he forced out.
"Hmmm, yes, actually. Where were you going that night?"
He frowned. "What?"
Buffy swallowed, wondering if maybe this wasn't the right time to bring it up. "The night that I... hit you. Where were you going? I-I mean it's always bothered me for some reason. It's stupid, I know. I just hope it wasn't anywhere important?"
She could never understand how important it was. Luckily, it all seemed to work out. He might not have gotten to Buffy in time to stop her from getting into the car, but he still managed to save her life. And that's all that mattered.
Spike looked at her, and he could see the worry on her face. Her eyes were full of guilt, as she chewed on her bottom lip. He gave her a sincere smile, hoping to put her at ease. "It wasn't important, love. I was just heading over to my friend Willy's place for a beer. The only thing you kept me from was a hangover."
"Oh, thank god!" she said, but quickly caught herself. "Not that it lessens the horrible-ness of me hitting you... I mean, I'd take a headache and some nausea over a broken leg any day. I just always had this nagging feeling that I kept you from something really important."
"Nah, it's nothing to worry your pretty, little head over. Besides, it's the past. What's done is done."
Buffy nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I just can't seem to stop beating myself up over it. Is that so wrong?"
"Well, I understand what you're going through," he said. "Something happened in my past that I've always blamed myself for... even to this day. I constantly think about how I could have done things differently, how I might have saved her if I'd only tried harder. It kills me just to think about. But I think about it on purpose, because I feel like I deserve the pain those thoughts bring."
"That's exactly how I feel," she told him. She was about to continue when something he'd said piqued her curiosity. "Um, save who?"
"What?"
"You said something about 'saving her'. Who did you try to save?"
Spike's eyes widened, realizing he'd revealed way way too much information. "Oh, uh, nobody. It's not important."
"You can tell me. I'm good at keeping secrets."
"Really, Buffy, it's nothing."
"But--"
"Just drop it, okay?"
A tension quickly mounted between them, and while Buffy hadn't moved an inch, it felt as if she'd moved a mile. Spike immediately started backtracking, unwilling to break the small bond they had been building. "Hey, I'm sorry, it's just a bit of a touchy subject for me, you know?" he tried, hoping he hadn't completely botched things up.
Buffy said nothing at first, but then gave him a small smile. "I understand. I didn't mean to pry."
"You weren't, it's just... well, it's not a big deal. Let's just forget about it."
"Sounds like a plan," she said, stretching out her legs.
Spike tensed when her leg accidentally brushed up against his own. God, even the smallest contact had his blood burning and his skin singing with anticipation. He looked over at Buffy, but she hadn't even seemed to notice.
With a shaky breath, Spike sat up further in bed. "I'm goin' to go to the bathroom, love. I'll be right back."
"Oh, do you need some help?"
"Think I can manage," he said. "But thanks."
Buffy smiled at him, and watched as he lowered himself into his wheelchair with ease. When he disappeared into the bathroom, she leaned back with a sigh. She had a lot on her mind. There was a chemistry test she had to study for, there was that whole thing with Angel that she had to deal with, and most importantly, she had to decide what she was going to wear tomorrow night. Not that it really mattered... it's not like she was trying to impress anyone. It was just a same old dinner with her same old friends. Well, and Spike.
Yet, while all these things raced through her mind, she couldn't help but wonder about one thing in particular. Who was the girl Spike tried to save and why couldn't he save her?
Buffy walked down the crowded school hallway with her friends at her side. The bell for fifth period had just rung, which meant it was time for lunch. Definitely her favorite period of the day.
Cordelia and Anya chatted on her left, while Riley was at her right. He had been quiet all day and Buffy was curious as to why.
"Something wrong?" she asked, giving his hand a light squeeze.
"What?" He shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts. "Oh... no. I'm just not feeling too well. I think I'm coming down with something."
Buffy placed her hand on his forehead as they headed towards the cafeteria. "You are a bit warm. You should go to the nurse's office."
"Nah, I'll be fine. Besides, I have football practice after school, so I can't go home."
"Do you think you'll be well enough to go out tonight?"
"To the pub? Yeah, I'm sure I will. I'll take a nap after practice and then see how I'm feeling."
She smiled. "Okay."
"Oh, Buffy!" Cordelia suddenly interrupted. "Follow me, there's somebody I want you to meet."
"Cordy, I'm talking to--" She sighed in defeat, as the brunette dragged her towards the water fountain, where a mousy redheaded girl was taking a drink. "Who's this?"
Cordelia cleared her throat, and the girl looked up at them. She smiled shyly--almost fearfully.
"Buffy, this is Willow. She's writing my thesis paper tonight while we go out. Isn't that the greatest?" Cordy chirped.
Buffy frowned, wondering what Cordelia had bribed this poor girl with. "Hi, I'm Buffy."
"H-Hi," Willow stuttered.
Cordy leaned over and whispered in Buffy's ear. "I told her I'd introduce her to all the cool people if she wrote my paper. Actually, she agreed before the bribe part, but I wanted to do a little something in return, ya know?"
"Yeah, Cordy. You're truly sweet."
"Aren't I?" she grinned, completely missing the sarcasm. She then turned to Willow. "Well, we have better things to do now. Bye!" She took Buffy's arm and pulled her away.
Buffy turned to Willow and gave the girl an apologetic smile, before they disappeared around the corner. "Jeez. Rude much?" she said to Cordelia.
Cordy ignored her. "So," she smiled excitedly. "About Bill's."
"What about it?"
"Well, Spike's going, right?"
Buffy nodded.
"Do you think I've got a shot?" She paused and corrected herself. "Scratch that. Of course I've got a shot! I'm Cordelia Chase. But do you think he's more of a one-night-stand type of guy, or more into the long term sort of thing?"
"Ummm..."
"I don't even know what to wear! Maybe that little red number I bought at Neiman-Marcus last week?"
"Yeah, I think --"
"Oh, Buffy, this is going to be great! You'll put in some good words for me, right?"
"I --"
"You're the best!"
Buffy sighed to herself, as the two girls made their way towards the cafeteria.
~~~
It was seven o'clock already, and Buffy was putting on the final touches to her makeup.
She applied her pink pastel lip color, ran a comb through her bouncy curls, and took one final glance in the mirror. She had stepped up from her usual jeans and a t-shirt look, and decided to put on a black skirt and a sparkly lavender blouse. She wasn't quite sure why she wanted to look extra nice tonight, but sometimes it just felt good to go all out. Spritzing some Happy perfume onto her collarbone, she took a deep breath, and stepped up to Spike's door. Just as she was about to knock, her cell phone rang.
She quickly ran over to her nightstand and picked up the phone. It was Riley. "Riley? You're supposed to be here in five minutes. Is something up?"
"Hey, Buffy. I hate to do this to you, but I'm not feeling any better."
"But Ri, couldn't you have told me about this earlier? We're supposed to be meeting Cordy and Angel in a half an hour."
"I'm really sorry, babe. I just woke up. I took a bunch of Advil after practice and I crashed."
Buffy tried not to sound disappointed -- after all, he couldn't help getting sick. "You don't need to apologize. I'll tell Angel to stop here and pick us up first. Feel better, okay?"
"Sorry, Buffy. I'll call you tomorrow."
"Alright. Bye."
She hung up, and then called Angel. He had just picked up Cordy, and said they'd be there in about ten minutes.
"Oh, Angel?" Buffy said, before he hung up.
"Yeah?"
"I, um, just wanted to apologize for what I said about... well, you know. I was getting heated and I said the wrong thing."
It was silent for a moment before he replied. "Did you mean it?"
"Of course not, Angel. I know you care about me."
"I do. I always will."
Buffy smiled. "I know. I'll see you soon, okay?"
They said their goodbyes, and Buffy tucked her cell phone inside her purse. She then made her way to Spike's door and knocked lightly. "Spike? Are you almost ready?" She didn't get a reply, so she hesitantly opened the door. The light was off and the bed was made. Frowning to herself, she closed the door and hurried out of her room and down the staircase. Buffy sighed in relief when she saw Spike sitting at the table, chatting with her mom.
"There you are," she said. "I thought you'd bailed on me for a sec."
He quirked an eyebrow. "Where would I have gone?"
"Good point."
"Oh, Buffy, Spike was just telling me about his days as an officer," Joyce beamed. "He has such exciting stories."
Buffy pouted a little. She never got to hear any cool cop stories. In fact, the only time he ever really talked to her was when she initiated the conversations.
She shrugged it off, and forced a smile. "Neat. You'll have to fill me in someday."
Spike nodded. "Of course." He would have said more, but he'd been struck a bit speechless since the moment she'd stepped into the kitchen. He wasn't used to seeing her so dressed up. He was used to the old sweaters he had bought for her, and the worn out jeans. And more recently, the sweats and tank tops. But now... she looked positively sinful. The black mini-skirt was showing off her gorgeous, tanned legs, and her hair had been curled, giving her a more glamorous look. The makeup she chose made her face shine, and the sweet smell of her perfume was making his knees weak. Everything about her was so sensual.
He was broken out of his thoughts by the sound of the doorbell ringing. It was probably Captain Cardboard here to pick them up. He was beginning to have second thoughts about their get together tonight, since Riley was going to be there. He knew there was going to be tension.
But to his surprise, Angel and Cordelia walked through the door instead -- wearing very different outfits. Angel had on a white t-shirt and blue jeans, while Cordelia was decked out in a red, glitzy, cocktail dress. They made an interesting pair.
"Check you out, Buffy. I haven't seen you this dressed up since Homecoming," Cordy said. Then she leaned down and whispered softly, "Trying to impress anyone?"
Buffy blushed. "Of course not. Everything else was dirty."
"Right," she said, unconvinced. Then she turned her sights on Spike. "Well, well, don't you clean up nice."
Spike smiled at her. He had chosen a red button-down and some black slacks. "You don't look so bad yourself."
Buffy rolled her eyes at their flirting, and grabbed Angel by the arm. "Come on, let's get going."
Spike and Cordelia followed and they were soon at the restaurant.
"This wheelchair is bloody embarrassing," Spike declared, as they pulled it out of the trunk.
"Don't be ridiculous," Buffy told him. "No one is going to think any less of you."
"Easy for you to say."
"Look. Cordelia is the most vain person I know, and she's been all over you tonight like white on rice. That's gotta tell you something."
Spike just shrugged, and maneuvered himself into the wheelchair. A few minutes later, they were inside the restaurant.
"It's busier than usual," Angel noted, stepping on some crushed peanut shells, as they walked to their designated booth.
Spike got out of his wheelchair and slid into the plush seat, while one of the waitresses wheeled it away. Cordelia slid in next to him.
Buffy glared at the brunette for a moment, before taking her seat opposite of them. Angel was the last to sit down.
"So, Spike," Cordy began. "What are you in the mood for?"
"You mean the pizza?"
She grinned, slyly. "Of course, silly. Unless you have something else on your mind... ?"
Buffy wanted to puke. Could Cordelia be anymore obvious? She quickly glanced at Spike to catch his reaction. He looked a little uncomfortable. "Cordy, let's take the innuendo down a notch, okay?"
She glared daggers at her, but Buffy ignored her.
Angel cleared his throat. "So, uh, we usually just get two large pizzas. One meat lovers and one vegetarian."
"Sounds good to me," Spike said, and then turned his attention to Buffy. "Which kind do you like, love?"
"Definitely the meat lovers. Cordy and Anya usually eat the veggie."
"Yeah," Cordelia added. "I feel like I gain a pound just looking at all that grease. Yuck."
Spike shrugged. "I dunno, I like a girl who doesn't shy away from some extra calories once in a while..."
Cordy looked stung. "Oh, well, I like calories. Just not pizza calories. It's a thing."
"That makes absolutely no sense, Cordelia," Angel said.
"You? Shut it."
Buffy and Spike chuckled.
"So, where's the boy toy?" Spike asked. "Thought you said he was comin' tonight."
"Oh, right. Riley's sick."
"Cry me a river," Angel said, more to himself.
Buffy shot him a look, and returned her attention to Spike. "I was a little disappointed at first, but it probably worked out for the best. He and Angel don't really get along, and neither do you two. It could've gotten awkward."
"Yeah, I was thinkin' so myself."
"Riley doesn't play well with others," Cordelia explained. "Others, as in, guys who know Buffy and are more good looking than him. It's this whole big macho thing."
Angel gave her a curious smile. "You think I'm more good looking than him?"
Buffy looked over at Cordy and could have sworn she saw her blush.
But she quickly covered it up. "Don't get all excited. My dog is more good looking than Riley Finn."
"Hey!" Buffy said.
A waitress appeared, breaking up any potential argument. Her nametag read 'Amy'. "Hi, guys," she greeted. "The usual?"
"As usual," Angel smiled, handing her the four menus.
Amy gave him a wink, and then looked over at Spike. "You're new. Do you go to Sunnydale High?"
Spike laughed. "No, I'm older."
"Ah. And you're dating Cordy?"
He laughed again, but unsuccessfully transformed it into a cough when Cordelia frowned at him. "Uh... not exactly. I'm stayin' with Buffy."
"Cool. Well, let me go put your guys' order in. I'll be back."
Amy came back with the pizzas a few minutes later, and the evening progressed from there. Buffy couldn't help but notice Spike beginning to warm up to Cordelia. At first he seemed uncomfortable with her advances, but now they were laughing together, and looked to be having a great time. Buffy wasn't sure why she cared so much. She didn't know why their flirting bothered her.
It just did.
"You okay, Buff?" Angel asked in concern, as they finished up. "You've barely touched your food."
"Not hungry," she said. Her eyes wandered over to the pair in front of her. Cordelia had her hand on Spike's knee, as she talked his ear off about the perks of being a cheerleader.
"... so I'm extra bendy," she finished with a coy smile.
Buffy felt sick to her stomach. "Excuse me. Pepperoni isn't agreeing," she said, and promptly climbed over Angel.
The rest of them watched, as she made a swift exit to the bathroom.
"Yeesh, what's her deal?" Cordy said.
Angel glanced at Cordelia and Spike, and then back at Buffy's retreating form. If he didn't know any better, he'd say that someone was bitten by the jealousy bug. "Huh. Interesting..."
Cordy frowned. "What? What's interesting?"
Realizing he'd said that out loud, he shook his head. "Nothing," he told her, and reached for his wallet. "Dinner's on me."
Submit a Review!