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.
Halloween was quickly approaching and Buffy was having a hard time concentrating on her studies. October 31st was always one of her favorite days of the year, and this year it just happened to fall on a Saturday. Her mind was racing with the possibilities of what to wear, where to go, who to bring. How late her mother would let her stay out. She hadn’t done any partying since her infamous drunk-fest a few months ago, and that resulted in a car accident, insane medical bills, and a new houseguest. Buffy feared she wouldn’t get much sympathy in regards to any kind of late night partying—Halloween be damned.
“Miss Summers.”
Buffy looked up from her desk to see the teacher staring in her direction. “Yes, Mrs. Thurman?”
“Your answer to number seven, please.”
Buffy gulped. She had been totally spacing, and wasn’t even on the right page. She quickly flipped through her textbook, ignoring the snickers of her classmates. “Ummm…”
“That’s what I thought,” the elderly teacher sneered. “Pay attention.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Thurman,” she replied sheepishly, and sunk low into her chair. School was becoming more and more of an issue lately. Her grades weren’t doing so well and her teachers were noticing. It wasn’t like Buffy was a slacker or anything—she just had more important things to deal with. Her boyfriend, for example. Riley was becoming seemingly more distant lately and it was worrying Buffy to the extreme. She couldn’t be bothered with chemistry equations when her own relationship’s chemistry was falling flat. Not to mention, cheerleading. She had made the squad this year and being a cheerleader was a huge responsibility. She was practicing her butt off. Between that and spending time with friends, family, and worrying about Spike’s health… well, there didn’t leave much time for school.
When the bell rang, Buffy gathered her books and headed out the door. Cordelia greeted her with a pearly white smile.
“Hey!” she said. “Want to see my Halloween costume? I decided to embrace the whole ‘become who you aren’t’ theme.”
Buffy followed the brunette to her locker. Cordelia had worn something slutty and scantily-clad every year since she’d known her, so she was almost expecting some sort of Amish attire.
Cordelia threw open her locker door with a big grin. “Ta da!”
Buffy frowned. “Cordy, that’s a naughty school girl costume.”
“I know! I’ve never been to Catholic school. It’s so not me!”
Buffy shook her head. There was no hope for Cordelia Chase. “Nice. I totally get it now.”
“What about you? Have you picked out a costume yet?”
“No, I’m still thinking about it.”
“Well, you better hurry it up. There’s only a week left. You don’t want to get stuck with all the lame clearance stuff,” Cordy reasoned.
“Yeah, I know,” she sighed. “Hey, do you know what we’re doing this year?”
Cordelia’s eyes lit up. “Oh my God, I totally forgot to tell you. My cousin, Doyle, is hosting a huge Halloween bash at his lake house. It’s going to be amazing!”
“Wow, really?”
“Uh-huh. And only super cool people are invited. So, you should bring Spike.”
Buffy’s head shot up. “Spike? I don’t think so, Cordy. I’m sure he’ll have better things to do than go to some high school kegger.”
“Oh, please, he’ll fit right in. Doyle’s twenty-eight. And by the way, the term ‘kegger’ is so beneath Doyle. He’s going to have all the finest liquors there. He is Irish, you know.”
“I guess. I’ll talk to Spike about it.”
“Great! Well, I need to get to class. Call me after school?”
Buffy nodded. “Will do.”
“I’m telling you, it’s going to be fabulous!” Cordelia blew her a kiss and then sauntered down the hall to greet Anya and Harmony.
She wasn’t quite sure what Spike’s reaction would be to attending this “amazing bash”, but she highly doubted he’d be up for it. She was almost embarrassed to ask him.
“Hey, Buffy!”
Buffy spun around to find Riley jogging towards her. “Hey, what’s up?”
“You hear about that Halloween party?”
“You mean the ultra-fabulous lakeside extraordinaire?”
“That’s the one. You’re going, right?” he asked.
“Well, yeah. I assumed we’d be going together.”
“Hey, that’s cool with me. As long as it’s just us.”
Buffy’s brow furrowed. “Yeah, sure. Who else would there be?”
“You know… Mr. Billy Idol Wannabe?” Riley said, as if it were obvious.
“Oh. Well, Cordy told me to bring him.”
“Hell no. I’m not having that punk spoil our fun.”
“Riley, stop acting like a baby. He’s not going to spoil anybody’s fun,” she insisted.
Riley just rolled his eyes. “Whatever. He’s not riding with us.”
Buffy was about to reply, but Riley had already turned and walked away. Her shoulders sagged. Why was he so hostile towards Spike? Spike hadn’t done anything to Riley. Especially nothing to deserve such treatment. But Buffy wasn’t about to lose the best relationship of her life to petty jealousy. If Riley didn’t want Spike to come, then so be it. This night should be about her and her boyfriend… nobody else.
With renewed hope, Buffy continued towards her next class of the day.
***
Buffy entered the kitchen that night to find her mother and Spike gutting a pumpkin. “Hey, how come I wasn’t included in these smelly festivities?”
“Honey, you hate taking the seeds out. We thought we’d get this part out of the way, and you could carve it later,” Joyce explained, placing the pumpkin seeds in a separate bowl.
“Aww, how thoughtful.” She hopped up onto one of the bar stools and took a sip of someone’s opened can of cola.
Spike glanced at her. “How was practice?”
“Great,” Buffy replied. “Ooh, we got two pumpkins. Is dad gonna help carve the other one?”
Spike frowned in his chair, noticing a distance from her.
“No, Buffy, your father’s working late all this week,” Joyce said. “Maybe next year.”
Buffy’s eyes lowered to the countertop. How was that not surprising? Her father hadn’t wanted anything to do with holidays since she was old enough to know what a holiday was. With a defeated sigh, she started pulling some guts out of the bigger of the two pumpkins.
“Something botherin’ you?” Spike asked when Joyce left the room.
Buffy shook her head, not wanting to get into it. She had decided that she’d try to distance herself from Spike as much as she could. Riley was her priority, and if he didn’t want her hanging around with Spike, then that’s just the way it would have to be. “I’m just tired,” she lied.
“You look upset.”
“I’m really not.” She continued to pull out the slimy insides. “Why are you so interested in how I’m feeling?”
Spike was taken aback by her sudden change of attitude. What happened to the fun-loving girl he’d bonded with over the past few months? “Uh, because you’re my friend. Friends tend to care about how the other one is feeling.”
“Well, I’m fine,” she said. And with a pause, she continued, “I just don’t think we should spend so much time together anymore.”
“What?” Spike asked incredulously.
“I think we should take a break. You know, spend some time apart.”
“Are you joking?”
“Am I laughing?” Buffy noticed the hurt in his eyes and tried to soften. “Look, I’m not trying to be harsh. It’s just that Riley’s been getting on my case about how much time we spend together. It’s not healthy. Riley’s my boyfriend and he should be getting all of my attention.”
“I’m sure there’s enough to go around,” Spike tried to reason.
Buffy shook her head. “That’s so not the point. The point is that Riley’s my boyfriend. You’re not.”
“Yeah, I was kind of aware of that. You’re sodding sixteen-years-old. I hardly see you as anything but a friend.” Yeah, that was a lie.
Buffy couldn’t help a pang of hurt that washed over her, but refused to let it show. “Good,” she said, picking up the carving knife. “’Cause that would be creepy.”
“Not to mention, illegal,” Spike added. “I mean, you’re a gorgeous girl, and any man would be daft if he said otherwise, but you’re far too bloody young and --”
Buffy slammed the knife down on the table. “Yeah, I get it. Too young. Moving on.”
Spike raised an eyebrow at her. “Sorry, didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, trying to get more of a reaction out of her.
“Why would that upset me?” Buffy asked. Yeah, why would that upset her?
“You just look a bit skittish is all.”
She sighed and put her head down on the table. This was ridiculous. Spike didn’t deserve her wrath or attitude. He’d done nothing wrong. He was the innocent in all of this. Hadn’t Buffy caused him enough grief? She took a deep breath. “Sorry,” she mumbled into her arm.
“What now?”
Her head shot back up. “I’m sorry, okay? I’ve just had a really crappy day. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
“I take it Riley’s been gettin’ on your case?”
“Just a little,” she said, and then corrected herself. “Who am I kidding? Just a lot. He really doesn’t like you.”
“Kinda gathered that.”
“I don’t get it, Spike. You didn’t do anything to deserve this. You’ve been more than understanding through this whole thing. I’m really sorry,” she said. “And about the whole distance thing… I was out of line. Just because Riley doesn’t want to hang around you, doesn’t mean I don’t. We’re friends and friends stick together.”
Spike gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. You’re in a difficult place right now,” he said. “And Riley’s just the jealous type, I s’pose. Most guys are.”
“You’re not,” Buffy reasoned.
“Don’t have anything to be jealous about.”
She looked up at him and could see a hint of pain and loneliness in his eyes. Buffy wished for a moment that she could take that pain away. Instead she just nodded her head. “Yeah.”
Spike cleared his throat, trying not to let his eyes betray him. Truth was, he was jealous. Insanely jealous. But Buffy could never know that. “Hey now, enough of this doom and gloom. We’ve got a pumpkin to carve.”
Buffy smiled and picked the carving knife back up. “What kind of face should we give him?”
“I can make a mean vampire,” he offered.
“I like that. Let’s name him Jack. Jack the Vampire Pumpkin.”
Spike shook his head. “Jack is far too common. What about Rupert?
Buffy made a face.
“No? How about…”
“Jack,” Buffy insisted. “He totally looks like a Jack. Just look at him!”
Spike glanced at the faceless pumpkin and tilted his head in thought. “I don’t know…”
“Pleeeease?” she whined.
He sighed in defeat. “All right. You win.”
“Yes!” she exclaimed giddily. “I rock.”
Spike chuckled, relieved at how the mood had lightened considerably. “But before we start carving, you’ve got a bit of Jack’s insides on your face.”
“What? Where?” Buffy began frantically wiping at her face. “I don’t feel anything.”
With an evil grin, Spike reached into the pot of guts and leaned over the kitchen counter. “Right here,” he said, smearing the gooey slime on her cheek.
Buffy gasped in horror. “You jerk! You’re gonna pay for that.” She then promptly reached her own hand into the bowl and slung a big wad in his direction. It landed smack dab in the middle of his face, making Buffy dissolve into giggles.
“Brat,” he said, and happily returned the favor.
By the end of the evening, Spike and Buffy were collapsed on the floor, leaning against the kitchen cabinets. They were covered head to toe in pumpkin guts. Jack the Faceless Pumpkin stared at them from atop the counter.
“We sure accomplished a lot,” Buffy said, still trying to catch her breath.
“At least the kitchen looks festive,” Spike reasoned.
They both cringed at the mess they’d made. Orange slime covered the floor and hung from the counters.
“Mom’s gonna kill me if this isn’t cleaned up by morning,” Buffy said.
“What, you don’t think she’ll appreciate our Halloween spirit?”
“Not so much,” she replied. She then reached over to Spike and picked a long string of seeds from off his head.
“You really got me good,” he told her.
“You got the job done yourself.”
He laughed. “Won’t deny that. You look ridiculous.”
Buffy feigned hurt. “This could very well be this year’s fall fashion trend. You never know.”
Spike wiped a bit of the goop from off of her nose. “Doubtful, pet.”
“Yeah, it’s a stretch,” she grinned. Buffy watched as Spike took a napkin and began to dab some more of the mess from off of her face. He gently rubbed the side of her cheeks, chin, and forehead. His close proximity was starting to fluster her, so she cleared her throat. “Thanks.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome.”
Buffy swallowed as he continued to lightly wash away the mess. It felt as if he were getting closer and closer with each stroke of his hand.
“You know, love,” Spike said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You still manage to remain stunningly beautiful, despite being covered in slime. How do you do it?”
She took in a quick breath, floored by his compliment. She sat completely still as the napkin dropped from his hand, and his fingers lightly grazed the side of her face. Buffy’s eyes fluttered closed and her heart skipped a beat at his soft touch. Her entire body warmed. “I-I… um…”
Suddenly, the front door slammed shut and they both jolted into upright positions.
“Anybody awake?” came the booming voice of Hank Summers.
“We’re… uh, i-in here,” Buffy said, alarmed at how weak her voice sounded. She quickly stood up on wobbly legs. She turned to Spike and helped him to his feet, handing him his crutches. As soon as they were both standing, Hank entered the kitchen.
“What the hell is all this mess?” he blared. “Buffy?”
“I’m sorry, Dad, we were just about to clean it up.”
“Damn right you were. Has your mother seen this?”
“No, like I said –“
“Don’t you dare talk back to me, young lady. I want this cleaned up immediately!”
And with that, he left the room and stormed up the stairs.
Buffy’s eyes watered. “He’s such a jerk sometimes,” she said.
Spike approached her and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off.
“I should clean up,” she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “He’s right. Mom can’t see this.”
“I can help the best I can,” Spike said, gesturing to the crutches.
Buffy nodded, then quickly reached for a towel and began to scrub the floor. Spike started to wipe down the kitchen counter. They cleaned in silence, not uttering a single word for the rest of the evening. However, an unspoken question lingered in the air. It lingered there as they cleaned, as they washed up, and as they went upstairs and climbed into their separate beds. They both lay there that night, eyes open, with only a thin wall dividing them. And still, that question lingered.