Summary:
Disclaimer: We all know the truth. None of these characters are mine, and if I were making money off of them, I could quit my job and go write on a beach somewhere.
Summary: A sequel to my short story, Summer Vacation. After the events of Forgiving, Wesley decides to take action after losing Connor, and finds something he never expected.
Rating: PG-13
“Go now go while you can/From the love that's brought you down/Things will soon come around I swear /And they'll be sorry they let you down/Go now go while you can/From the life that's brought you down/Things will soon come around I swear/And you'll have it all figured out/Never really worry for a bit /Sometimes it feels worse then it really is/You may always be changing your mind /Just push hard for the finish line.” ~Rosie Thomas, “Finish Line”
Spike watched as Buffy tucked Connor into the small pallet she’d set up for him in her room. She had decided that he would probably feel safer if he were close to one of them, and Spike was going back to his crypt now that he’d cleaned up.
The little boy spotted him standing by the door and held out his arms. “Pike!”
Buffy smirked. “I think he’s asking for you, Pike.”
“It’s not his fault that he can’t quite say it,” Spike replied, giving her a dirty look. “The same can’t be said for you.”
She just smiled and moved to one side so that Spike could give Connor a hug. Spike drew the line at kisses; he’d shown himself to be enough of a softie while they were in Quortoth. There hadn’t been another choice because one of them had to carry the child, and Connor had seemed to prefer him.
Spike had comforted himself with the knowledge that when Angel found out that his kid actually liked him, he’d likely blow a gasket. That, and the fact that Buffy was unlikely to tell anyone.
Connor settled down after that, and Spike headed for the stairs. “Where are you going?” Buffy called softly.
Knowing that Wesley was asleep in the guest room, with Dawn in her bedroom, Spike kept his own voice down. “I’m goin’ back to the crypt.”
“Oh.” Buffy hesitated, then took his arm and pulled him down the stairs. “You want to go?”
Spike frowned. “You want me to stay?”
“Well, I just thought you might want to stay tonight, since it’s so close to sunrise,” she said. “But I know you’ve been gone for days, and you probably—”
“No!” Spike said quickly, not wanting to pass up his chance to spend the night—or day. “No, it’d be nice to know I’ve got a safe place to kip.”
Buffy’s expression was full of concern. “Is it still bad, Spike?”
He shrugged, hating to be a burden, or for Buffy to think him unable to take care of himself. “Not so bad, but I sleep lightly.”
“I’d let you take the floor in my room, but since Connor is there, maybe the basement?” she suggested. “We’ve got a cot, and it’s dark down there.”
“Sounds good,” he replied.
She smiled, ducking her head. “I’ll just—I’ll get it set up then.”
“We never talked about that kiss,” Spike said, following her to the basement. “Didn’t want to say anythin’ while we were in Quortoth, since we had our hands full, but we’re back now.” When she didn’t respond, he added, “An’ you said we’d have that conversation when it was all over.”
“I did, didn’t I?” Buffy murmured, unfolding the cot and looking around. “I know that box was down here somewhere.”
“Buffy—”
“I thought Quortoth would make it easier,” she confessed, still not looking at him. Instead, she rooted around in the various boxes.
“Didn’t it?”
“In a way.” She stopped. “You, with Connor, it wasn’t an act, was it?”
Spike knew that this was no time to let pride get in the way of the truth. “No, it wasn’t.”
“I didn’t think so. You’ve always been good with Dawn.”
At least she had admitted it now, Spike thought, but he didn’t know where she was going with this. “You know how I feel about the Bit.”
“I do.” Buffy turned to face him fully. “I loved Angel, and I had to send him to hell. I know that people do bad things, but you can understand why I’d hesitate to trust a vampire.”
“Yeah, I do, luv.” He took a cautious step closer to her. “I’d never hurt you. I’ve done a lot of things, but I’ve—” Spike stopped. He’d been about to say that he’d never hurt someone he loved, but that wasn’t true, not when he thought of his mother, even though he’d had the best of intentions.
Buffy smiled wistfully. “You don’t hurt the people you love?”
“I try not to.”
“That’s all I can ask, I guess.” She took a deep breath. “It’s a good thing that you don’t have a soul to lose. It’s just the chip I have to worry about.”
“No, you don’t.” Spike moved closer until there were only inches between them. “This chip doesn’t do anything for me, Buffy. Maybe it makes it easier to do the right thing, but it doesn’t force me to.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Her gaze turned calculating, and she reached up to pull his head down.
Spike closed his eyes, hardly able to believe it. Her mouth was on his, her kiss a gentle demand. After a moment, that changed, and it turned needy. Buffy’s hands gripped his shoulders; his were on her waist. Spike hesitated to go further, wanting her to be sure, not wanting to wake up if this was a dream.
He might have believed that he’d died and gone to heaven if he didn’t know there was no such thing for the likes of him.
She led him over to the cot, never pulling her mouth from his. It was so easy, and felt so right that Spike couldn’t believe that they had never done this before.
The heavy make out sessions under Willow’s spell didn’t count—not after he’d had the real thing. Not when he knew that Buffy wanted this, and she wouldn’t be ignoring him after all this was over.
At least, he hoped not.
~~~~~
Wesley awoke to the sounds of crying. He was out of bed and in Buffy’s room without even thinking about it. Connor was sitting up in his nest of blankets, sniffling and trying to muffle his cries. He was so young to be trying not to cry, and Wesley knew that was Holtz’s doing from what Buffy had said.
And his doing. He bore the blame for allowing Holtz to take the boy in the first place.
Wesley scooped Connor up in his arms, barely noticing that Buffy was nowhere to be seen. He cradled the boy close, gratified when he seemed to calm. He hummed the same lullaby he’d used so long ago, the one that had given him away to Lorne.
“Wes?” Buffy stood in the doorway, looking a little sheepish. Her hair was slightly mussed, and her lips looked swollen. “Spike said he thought he heard Connor crying.”
“I think he was just scared,” Wesley replied. Connor’s arms had loosened their death grip around his neck, and Wesley stroked his back soothingly. “I was close by.”
Buffy nodded. “Good. Thank you.” She hesitated. “I’ll call Angel tomorrow, unless you want to.”
Wesley shook his head. “No, you should be the one to tell him. You were the one to rescue him.”
“We wouldn’t have gone except for you,” Buffy reminded him gently. She sat down on her bed, and Wesley settled next to her. “I’m sure Angel will appreciate what you’ve done.”
“Perhaps he won’t be quite as inclined to kill me,” Wesley agreed.
Buffy let out a breath. “Have you thought about staying here?”
“I have,” he admitted. “I don’t know.”
“He might need you.”
“I doubt it.”
Buffy gave him a look that was full of compassion. “This really wasn’t your fault, Wesley.”
“Yes, it was,” he insisted, fully willing to accept his own role in the matter. “If I had only—”
“Done something differently?” Buffy suggested. “Been a little faster or a little smarter or any of those things you think of in the middle of the night?”
“You, too?”
“I’m the Slayer,” she reminded him. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about how if I’d just been better, someone wouldn’t have died.”
“You can’t focus on those things, Buffy,” Wesley replied, knowing that such regrets would do her no good.
She raised an eyebrow. “But you can?”
He chuckled ruefully. “Point taken.”
“I’ll talk to him, Wes,” Buffy said softly. “You never know. Once he’s got Connor back, he might find it easier to forgive you.”
Wesley wasn’t sure of that.
~~~~~
Dawn knew that something was up as she kept an eye on Connor while he ate his breakfast, picking up Cheerios with a chubby fist and shoving them into his mouth. The blue teddy bear, already the worse for wear, was firmly clamped under one arm. He was too adorable, but Dawn found her sister’s behavior a little more interesting.
The Slayer alternated between cooing at Connor and keeping an eye on the basement door. That would have been odd enough—since there was nothing especially fascinating about it—but every time she glanced that direction, she flushed slightly.
“Is Spike coming back over today?” Dawn asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Buffy started guiltily. “Oh, well, he’s still here.”
She perked up at that news. “Did he stay?”
“It was close to sunrise before he was ready to leave,” Buffy replied, sounding just a little defensive. “So, I fixed the cot in the basement for him.”
Dawn smirked. “I’m sure he appreciated that.”
The flush that spread across Buffy’s cheeks told Dawn that there had been a little more than simple gratitude exchanged. “Yeah, well, he was nice enough to watch my back. I owed him that much anyway.”
Dawn’s eyes went wide. “Did something happen between you and Spike?” When Buffy busied herself at the sink, she grinned. “Something did happen! In Quortoth?”
“We were too busy surviving for anything to happen,” Buffy replied.
Dawn let out a laugh. “Last night, then.”
“It’s not a big deal, Dawnie.”
She frowned. “I’ll bet that’s not what Spike said.”
“We’re friends,” Buffy said.
“And more?”
“Yes.”
The word was pulled out of her reluctantly, and Dawn knew that her sister was going through her usual routine. “It’s not the end of the world, Buffy.”
“I know.” She sighed. “I can’t pretend that it’s going to be easy, though.”
Dawn frowned. “How hard can it be?”
Buffy gave her sister a look that said she was being stupid. “Hello? Have you met Xander and Willow?”
Dawn winced. “Oh, yeah.”
“Yeah. And when Giles finds out, he’s going to flip his lid, too.”
The younger girl shrugged. “But he’s in England, and you know that Tara and Anya will back you. Wesley, too, probably, since you helped him out.”
Buffy shrugged and turned back to Connor, who was banging his fist on the table. “Hey, big guy. Do you want something to bang with?” She grabbed a wooden spoon and handed it to him. Connor started using it to enthusiastically make noise.
“You’ve got me, too, Buffy,” Dawn reminded her softly. “It’s going to be okay.”
Buffy shook her head. “I know, but I don’t know that all of my friendships are going to survive this one.”
There was nothing that Dawn could say to that, because Buffy was likely right. Willow and Xander had both been unreasonable about Spike. “Have you called Angel yet?”
“You know I haven’t,” Buffy said evenly.
Dawn leaned against the counter. “How come?”
“Because I’m not exactly looking forward to talking to him.” Buffy shrugged. “We’re not best friends.”
“And when he finds out that you went to Quortoth with Spike?”
“He’ll probably do some flipping of his own lid.”
Dawn grabbed the phone and handed it to her. “Get it over with,” she advised. “He’ll want to know that Connor is safe.”
Buffy looked guilty. “I know. I should have called him as soon as we got back.”
“There’s no time like the present.” She glanced up the stairs. “I think Wesley is out of the shower, so I’ll take mine now. Good luck.”
Dawn knew that Buffy was going to need it.
~~~~~
Spike stood at the door, slumped against the wall. Their make out session the night before had been interrupted by Connor’s cries, which he had been able to hear even in the basement. Now, he’d been able to hear every word of her conversation with Dawn. Although he’d been gratified to hear Buffy tell her sister that they were more than friends, he hadn’t been thrilled to be reminded of the Scoobies’ likely reactions.
She was right; this was going to be hard. No matter how right it felt, they would have to face Willow and Xander at some point, and they’d have to deal with Giles if he came back across the pond.
He could hear Connor banging on the table, and Buffy’s voice, presumably as she talked on the phone. “Is Angel there?”
If he concentrated and shut out the noise that Connor was making, he could just hear the voice on the other end of the line. “Is this Buffy?”
“Yes, Cordelia, it’s Buffy. I need to talk to Angel; it’s important.”
“He’s not really up to talking right now,” Cordelia replied. “There’s been a lot going on lately, and—”
“And I’ve got some really good news that he’ll want to hear, but I’m not telling anyone else. Now pass the phone over.”
Spike could hear Cordelia’s huff. “Fine. Let me get him.”
“Thanks.”
There was a long pause and then he could hear Angel’s voice. “What is it, Buffy?” The older vampire sounded infinitely tired.
“Angel, I’ve got Connor.”
Spike’s eyebrows went up. He hadn’t expected Buffy to break the news so abruptly.
“Wha—what?”
“Wesley came here to ask for my help getting Connor back,” she said. “He told me everything. I—we went to Quortoth, and we got him back for you. He’s older, but he’s here, and he’s healthy.”
“You’re lying,” Angel said flatly. “You have to be.”
Spike heard Buffy sigh. “Connor, can you say something for your dad?”
“Pike!” the boy yelled gleefully.
Spike winced. It looked like his cover had been blown. He opened the door and winked at the boy. Buffy’s panicked expression told him that she was wondering how long he’d been standing there. Her attention was taken up by Angel on the other end, however.
“I—that was him?”
“That was him,” Buffy confirmed. “Like I said, he’s doing really well, considering everything he’s been through.”
“Holtz?” Angel asked, sounding worried.
“Dead. We took care of him.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Angel promised. “I’ll have to wait until the sun goes down at least a little more.”
“We’ll be here,” Buffy promised. “We’re taking good care of him, Angel.”
“Thanks.” There was a pause, and he added, “Is Wes still there?”
Buffy shared a look with Spike. “Yeah, he is. He was a big help getting the portal open and closed again.”
“Tell him I want to see him,” Angel said.
“I’ll let him know.” Spike could see her hesitate. “I don’t like bloodstains on my carpet.”
“I’ll play nice,” he promised, then hung up.
“Was that Angel?” Wesley stood in the doorway, his arms crossed defensively over his chest.
Buffy nodded. “He’s going to be here tonight. He wants to talk to you.”
Wesley nodded stiffly. “Yes, of course.”
Spike glanced over at him. “Buffy already told him she didn’t want blood on her carpets, mate.” He was feeling a lot more kindly towards the man now that Buffy had made her affections clear.
Wesley smiled faintly. “I appreciate that.”
“No biggie,” Buffy replied. “You know how hard it is to get rid of bloodstains.”
“I do.” His eyes focused on Connor. “He seems to be doing well this morning.”
“Nightmares are all forgotten,” Buffy replied. “It’s the great thing about being a kid.”
“It would be.” Wesley glanced behind him. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll head over to the Magic Box. There are a few things I wanted to pick up, and a few books I’d like another look at.”
“Sure,” Buffy replied. “You’re not tied here.”
He looked at Connor again, ill-concealed longing in his eyes. “No, I suppose not. I’ll see you later.”
“That was interestin’,” Spike observed after Wesley had gone.
Buffy frowned. “Yeah. Are you hungry?” she asked, changing the subject. “There’s still blood in the fridge.”
“I could eat,” Spike replied, then stepped close to her. “But I’m hungrier for somethin’ else right now.”
An unwilling smile curved her lips. “Connor is sitting right there.”
“He won’t remember it.”
“And Dawn’s going to be down any minute,” she reminded him.
Spike smirked. “No, she won’t. If she was takin’ a shower, it’ll be an hour anyway.”
“True.” Buffy was wavering; he could sense it.
When he leaned in for a kiss, however, he heard Connor’s imperious, “Pike!”
She laughed. “Looks like we got stuck with babysitting him a while longer.”
“I don’t mind,” he admitted, swinging Connor down from the chair he’d been perched on. “Be a bit sorry to see him go, to tell the truth.”
“You are a softie,” she accused.
He shook his head. “I’m a bad, rude man, an’ don’t you forget it.”
From her laughter, Spike got the sense that she didn’t believe him.
~~~~~
Wesley had no idea what Angel wanted to say to him. Would he thank him? Or would he simply say that nothing had changed, and he still wasn’t welcome at the hotel? His thoughts were so caught up in anticipation—or dread, rather—of that night’s meeting that he wasn’t watching where he was going.
“Oh!”
He automatically reached out to steady Tara, and the books in her arms were sent tumbling to the ground. “Bloody hell. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she assured him. “I wasn’t watching either.”
“My mind was elsewhere,” Wesley confessed as he helped her gather the books again.
Her expression was sympathetic. “Buffy called Angel, huh?”
“Yes. Apparently, he wants to talk to me.”
“Uh oh.” Tara seemed to understand immediately what that meant. “Did he say what he wanted?”
Wesley shook his head. “No.”
“What will you do?”
“I have no idea.” He sighed. “I imagine it will greatly depend on what he has to say.”
“So, what are you doing here?” Tara asked.
Wesley shrugged. “There were a few books I wanted another chance to look at, just in case—”
“In case you don’t get another chance?” she filled in when he stopped.
“Something like that. And you?”
She shrugged. “I just wanted to return a few books I borrowed.”
“Oh, of course.” Wesley held the door open for her, and their eyes met. Something passed between them in that moment, although he wasn’t sure what it was. In any case, there was a connection made that would not be broken lightly.
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