Chapter 17: Something
Author's Notes: IT'S HERE AT LAST!!! *dances*
Almost a month had past and Spike was finally out of his wheelchair, walking more comfortably in his crutches. Joyce told him that if he took it easy for the next few weeks or so, the cast could come off early if he promised to participate in regular therapy sessions with her. Spike wasn't one to complain. If it meant he could get the dreaded cast off, he was all for it. He couldn't wait for the day when he'd be able to walk freely again.
Though, there was a particularly big drawback to that scenario. The day he'd be able to fend for himself, would be the day he’d be back on his own and out of the Summers' household. Out of Buffy's life.
Spike was really starting to feel as if he belonged there. He and Buffy had grown so much closer during the past month, and her friends and mother continued to treat him as if he were a top notch guest. It was definitely something a bloke could get used to. Spike would occasionally feel a bit on the strange side, hanging out with a group of teenagers, but they always tried to make him feel as comfortable as possible. It also helped that Angel was closer to his age. They'd begun to develop a budding friendship... much to Spike's surprise.
"Oh, c'mon! He's out!" Angel yelled at the television set. "You saw that, right? Wasn't he out?"
"Bloody right he was."
Joyce strolled into the living room with a bowl of popcorn. "You boys want something to snack on?"
Angel held out his hand for the bowl, his eyes never leaving the baseball game. "This is ridiculous. Joyce, check out this instant replay. He's out, right?"
"Oh, I-I... well..."
"Exactly!"
"Smart lady," Spike agreed.
Buffy then bounded in through the front door. "I'm home!" she declared.
Angel was still glued to the television, but Spike immediately straightened when he heard the familiar voice. Buffy had had cheerleading tryouts after school and Spike was just dying to see her in her uniform. She didn't let him down.
"Hey, guys! Yuck, baseball." She tossed her backpack on the floor. "Hi, Mom."
"Hi, honey."
Spike smiled up at her. "How were tryouts?"
Buffy made her way over to the couch and plopped down right between them. "Good. We get the results tomorrow."
"Ah." Spike couldn't stop his gaze from lowering to her bronzed legs. When she sat down, her maroon skirt inched up dangerously high. "I'm, uh, sure you did great."
"Yeah. I mean, I'm really flexible. Way more than Cordy claims to be."
This caught Angel's attention. "What now?"
"Cheerleading tryouts," Buffy explained. "Spike asked how it went."
"You'll ace it. You do every year. You have that... pep thing going for you."
She shrugged. "A little pep goes a long way." Buffy shifted on the couch and looked up at Spike. "How's your leg?"
Spike warmed at the look in her eyes. She always had the same soft, concerned gaze when she asked him that. "Doin' better, I reckon. Can't wait to get this bloody thing off, though,” he said, gesturing towards the cast.
"You know I'm helping you with the therapy, right?"
"Buffy, your mum's perfectly capable..."
"Shush it. I'm the one responsible, so I'm the one who helps with the getting better."
Spike sighed. The thought of Buffy's hot, little hands running up and down his leg was both exciting and unnerving. But mostly exciting - so he wasn't going to argue. "If you say so."
"Yep. So says me." Suddenly, her cell phone rang and she ran over to her purse to answer it. "Hello? Cordy, hey!"
The two men watched as she sauntered down the hall, her voice disappearing along with her scantily-clad frame. They both let out a breath when she'd vanished.
"Buffy's something, isn't she," Angel said.
It wasn't a question. "That she is," Spike agreed.
"And that uniform... phew."
Spike laughed. "Yeah, mate."
"She really doesn't realize the effect she has on men."
"Some men, you mean," he countered.
"Oh, c'mon. You're trying to tell me you're not jonesing for her?" Angel asked in disbelief.
"She's sixteen-bloody-years-old. Can't say I am."
"You're full of shit. Don't even --"
"I'm not a cradle robber, Angel. Buffy's nothin' more than a friend."
Angel stifled a laugh. "So, you mean to tell me that when she looks at you the way she does, you're completely immune?"
It was Spike's turn to stifle a laugh. "You're daft. What look?"
"Don't play dumb. You know exactly what I'm talking about."
"Not really."
"That
look," he said. Then he paused and said softly, "The one I've been waiting for my entire life."
Spike frowned, not knowing what to say. Angel's features had grown dark as he leaned back against the couch. Spike noticed some "looks" Buffy gave him, but he always considered them to simply be friendly or concerned. Like the one she had just given him earlier - that was concern in her eyes. For his health. Nothing more.
Or was it?
"I think you're reading a bit too much into this, mate. Buffy's just a friend."
Angel clicked off the TV and stood up to leave. "Right," he said, grabbing his jacket. "See you, Spike."
Spike nodded a farewell, as Angel left him alone with his thoughts.
***
"Ugh! Stupid numbers. Stupid symbols. And what the heck are letters doing in my math equations?"
Buffy sat Indian-style on Spike's bed as he flipped through the television stations. "Don't ask me. I dropped out my sophomore year."
"You did? Why?"
"Dunno. Was a rebel, I guess."
"Huh. That's kinda cool. I mean, I wish I could just drop out. My parents would kill me, though."
"Yeah, I don't really recommend it."
"How come?" Buffy asked. "You became a cop and stuff. That's pretty hardcore for not even graduating high school."
"Got a GED."
She shrugged. "Oh."
"'Sides, school's important, you know," Spike said. "Help's you become a doctor, or a fireman, or whatnot." He paused, remembering something she'd told him way back when. "Or a ballerina."
Buffy's head shot up, a blush creeping down her neck. "How did you know I wanted to be a ballerina?"
You told me. Once upon a time you told me."Uh, your mum spilled the beans," he smiled. "I take that one to the grave, I reckon?"
"Yes! God, I can't believe she told you that. She knows how much it embarrasses me."
"Why?"
"I dunno. It's just... everyone my age wants to do important stuff. Like you said, become a doctor. Or even be a lame lawyer like my dad. But a ballerina? Someone who flitters around in slippers all day?" She huffed, "Not too likely to get me a scholarship."
"You make it sound less important than it is."
"How is it not?"
Spike shrugged. "Because you love it."
Buffy's face softened at his words. "Yeah," she smiled. "Maybe you're right."
A comfortable silence fell between them, as Buffy re-opened her Algebra book.
Spike glanced at her as she nibbled at her eraser head. Angel's words had been running through his head all day, and Spike found it hard to make eye contact with her. He was too afraid he'd see... something. A something Angel had insisted was there. But as she studied her homework assignment, he couldn't help his eyes from boring holes into her. She was stunning. Her hair was in a tousled ponytail, high on her head, and she was wearing a baby blue tank top with grey sweats. Even though he'd seen her in similar outfits every day, he still couldn't get over how beautiful she was. Casual, comfortable, and beautiful.
Buffy looked at him, a smile spreading across her lips. "What? You're ogling."
He quickly faced the TV. "No, I'm not."
"You liar. I have something in my hair, don't I? Or-or food on my face?"
"Buffy, I'm serious. I was just..."
"'Cause that was definitely an ogle."
Spike sighed. "You just look... really pretty right now."
Buffy's eyes widened in surprise. But before she could respond, her phone rang. They both jumped at the intrusion.
"S-Sorry… I’ll, um, be right back." She quickly hopped off the bed and opened the door to her connecting bedroom.
Spike ran his hands over his face in frustration. He hadn't meant to say that, really. He just felt the need to be honest for once. He didn't want it to sound like he was hitting on her.
Even though he completely did.
"Bugger," he groaned. Spike lay back on the bed and turned the television off. He could hear Buffy's cheery voice in the other room, trying to convince Riley that she didn't need a study buddy for the big math test tomorrow.
Riley. Did he ever give Buffy compliments? Did he ever tell her just how gorgeous she was?
By the look on her face, he didn't think so.
"Hey, sorry," Buffy said, entering the room once more. "That was Riley. He wanted to come over, but it's getting kinda late. I should be getting to bed soon anyway."
"Right," Spike said. "Got a big test tomorrow, I hear."
"That's the way it goes," she sighed.
He nodded, then turned to face her. "Look, Buffy, I didn't mean anythin' by that before... I was just --"
"Forget it," she said. "It was sweet."
Buffy walked over to him and pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek. Spike gazed at her as she pulled back, her eyes locked on his.
Then he saw it.
Something."Goodnight," she whispered.
Spike swallowed. "'Night."
She walked out of the room, smiling at him as she left. Spike took a deep breath when she was gone, trying to ignore her scent that was all around him. Maybe he didn't see anything at all. Maybe Angel was crazy. Maybe he was crazy.
No, it was definitely something. Maybe something small... maybe something meaningless.
But, hey, he'd traveled back in time for this girl, and something was better than nothing.
To Be Continued...