Summary: Two years after the battle at the end of "Not Fade Away", Buffy's still in Rome. An unexpected visitor shows up bringing even more unexpected news.
Author's Notes: Inspired by and writtern for calturner.
Rating: NC-17
Buffy felt herself being kissed awake. "Up and at 'em, Slayer," a warm, rumbly voice whispered in her ear. She slowly opened her eyes to see Spike standing next to the bed, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
"Time?" she asked croakily.
" Four pm ," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Time to go tear a hole in some Immortal ass."
"Good God, Spike," Buffy groaned. She rolled over and buried her head under the covers. Those covers were soon gone as Spike yanked them off the bed and wrapped his arms around her, dragging her to her feet.
"C'mon now, Slayer. When have you ever backed down from a good fight?"
"There has to be fighting?" she asked, blinking at him. He felt warm pressed against her. Mostly likely from her body heat since he'd spent the night and most of the day either wrapped around her or in her. "Marco can be reasonable, you know. Maybe there could be talking? Talking and coffee?"
"You're not serious, right?" Spike asked. He stepped back and held her at arms-length. "That bloody bastard had me beaten. Add that to the humiliations of the last times we've crossed paths and I'm ready to spill some of his perfect blood!"
Buffy broke his grip on her arms and sat on the bed. She grabbed a blanket and wound it around herself. "Sorry. Can't have a conversation about Marco while we're both naked. It's a thing."
Spike grabbed his jeans off the floor and tugged them on. "Better?" he asked sarcastically.
"No," Buffy said. "But it makes it easier to concentrate." She smiled at him and his frown eased. "Think about it, Spike. We can't just barge into his hotel room and beat him up. We'd be squashed like bugs by all the bodyguards he keeps around. And that's if we even got through the front door and found out which room is his."
"I can smell him," Spike said, putting his hands on his hips.
Buffy rolled her eyes. "There are over a hundred rooms in the Hotel Eden. You're gonna smell him?"
"Worth a try, innit?"
"So, are you going to tell me what Marco did that has you so ready for a bite of him? Besides the beating. Because, frankly, Spike, you kinda like being beaten up."
"Only by you," he said, sitting next to her.
"God that's seriously twisted."
"Yeah, well. If it makes you feel any better, I like getting shagged by you a hell of a lot more."
Buffy grinned. "And if I do both at the same time..."
Spike lunged for her, covering her body with his as he pressed her down into the bed. He licked her neck. "Yeah? Tell me more."
Buffy hooked her leg around his and flipped them so she was on top. She crossed her arms on his chest. "Actually, that gives me an idea," she said.
"Oh yeah?" Spike asked, waggling his eyebrows and curling his tongue over his teeth.
"Yeah. I know how we can hurt Marco without getting anywhere near him."
"Oh," Spike said, disappointment crossing his face. "Well, supposed I'd like to hear that idea as well."
"It's not like I've had a lot of time to think about this, you know. With the you showing up and all the sex."
"You'd better not have been thinking about that wanker while you were with me," Spike growled at her.
"Oh please." She bit his collarbone lightly and thumped him on the chest. "Focus. What's the thing Marco cares about most?"
Spike frowned in concentration. "Sex?" At her glare he added, "May be a vampire, pet, but I'm still a guy. It's what guys care about, yeah?"
"Well, yes, but Marco also really cares about his reputation . If we mess with that, we mess with him big time."
Spike sat up, pulling her with him. "Yeah. Can see that working. How're we gonna bollocks his reputation?"
"I'm thinking a few well-placed phone calls from the local clinica mentioning that Marco suffers from a rare STD... I mean yes, he's immortal. But that doesn't mean he can't spread stuff."
"That's low, love."
"And?"
He smiled slowly. "Might work."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Two hours and seventeen phone calls later, Buffy was feeling pretty confident that Marco wouldn't be getting another date in all of Italy , let alone Rome . She turned away from the phone to look at Spike, who was sprawled across her couch, clicking through the television channels with the sound off.
"So?" he asked when she caught his eye. "Couldn't understand any of that Italian gibberish you were spouting off."
"He's pretty much bulletproof in many ways--no pun intended--but I don't think he'll be gettin' any for a while. I called all his haunts and left word that he really needs to call the clinic for malattia venereal--venereal disease--to get treatment for his, um, condition."
Spike snorted and then frowned a little. "Still curious as to why the Immortal's interfering with your personal life now. Ended it with him a while ago, didn't you?"
Buffy pushed his feet off the couch and sat next to him. "You know I did."
"Then why?"
"You were my first."
"Yeah, right. Know for a fact that's not true--"
She punched him on the shoulder, making him wince. "You were the first one I was with since him. And even when I was with him, he knew I still thought about you. Still missed you."
"And you were the first ever to break things off with him..."
Buffy shrugged. "One thing I've learned from all my disastrous relationships? The male ego can be huge. Huge and irrational. And often in direct opposite proportion to his..."
"Hey, now," Spike said, offended.
"Except yours, sweetie."
"Damn right."
"But I still think we should probably leave Rome ," Buffy said.
"And go to L.A. ?"
Buffy shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah. About that--"
Spike said, "Great. Here we go," at the same time Buffy said, "I can't go back to L.A. "
Spike stood. "Think it's more 'won't' than 'can't'."
"Um, both?"
He crossed his arms and widened his stance, like he was waiting for a blow. "So that's it. Again. I'm building a life in L.A. and you can't see past the end of your nose to join me there."
Buffy stood too. "No, it's not like that. And I don't think you're building a life for you at all, by the way."
"What's that mean?"
"I think you're helping to build Angel's life--just like you did when you stayed at Wolfram and Hart after you were re-corporealized. And yes, Andrew did fill me in on all the details."
"I did not! If anything, I stayed to bugger up Angel's Shanshu, to be the bloody thorn in his bloody side! And I stayed because I didn't think you'd want me!"
"Well, you're just a stupid head then! Of course I wanted you! How could you think I wouldn't?!"
"I don't know!" he shouted.
"I don't know either!" she shouted back. "But I think it's time for us to build a life for us instead of doing it for everyone else!"
"S'what I'm trying to do, you silly bint!"
Buffy grabbed his shoulders. "Then let's go to London and start our own business. One that's funded by the Council. They owe us, Spike. Both of us."
"But I told Angel--"
"Angel's a big vampire. Angel can take care of himself . You don't owe Angel anything."
"It's not that easy, Buffy." He uncrossed his arms and put his hands on her waist. "He's counting on me."
She was quiet for several moments, wrestling with her thoughts. Finally, she said, "You know, the old Buffy would say, 'So am I'. But the Buffy I am now knows that's unfair. I know I should go to L.A. with you, if that's what you want." She took a deep breath. "So I will."
Spike looked stunned. "What?" he asked.
"I'll go back to L.A. with you. For however long you need me. But I like the idea of going to London and building something there. Something that's just ours. Without all the baggage."
"Slayer, you and me--we're all about the baggage."
"Without everyone else's baggage, then."
He touched her cheek and ran a thumb across her lips. "Be hard on you, going back?"
Buffy nodded once. "With Angel there and Anne there. And Sunnydale not that far away--or what's left of it. Yeah. Hard's a nice way of putting it. But I'll do it. For you."
Spike pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. "You'd do that for me," he said and she could hear the wonder in his voice.
She nodded, her forehead rubbing against his neck. "I would. I will. If that's what you want, Spike."
"What I want," he said, pulling away from her to look into her eyes, " is you. Happy."
"If I can be with you, I'll be happy, okay?"
He shook his head. "No. You won't."
She stepped back. "What the hell does that mean?"
"It means we're not going to L.A. --at least not to stay. You and me? We're opening up shop in London ."
"We are?"
"Yes, Buffy. Love. You've got a point. Been following other people for so long, I've almost forgotten what it's like to strike out on my own. Do me good, starting from scratch. As long as I can do it with you."
Buffy cupped his face in her hands. "Are you sure this won't just be more of the following me?"
"Hell no," he said, tilting his head. "I'm going first."
"I love you, you know," Buffy said.
"Love you too. Now kiss me before I call The Great Poof and tell him we're coming to L.A. To pack."
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