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
“Your phone?” he asked.
“Well, yes,” Buffy answered.
“No, love. Can I use it? Sorry, it'll be long distance.”
“Oh,” Buffy said, handing the phone to him. “Of course. She'll be wondering if you got here safely.”
“Right. Okay if I take it in the other room?”
Buffy stood up quickly. “No, wait. I'll go in the bedroom. I need to change clothes anyway. You stay here. Talk as long as you like.”
“Thanks, pet,” he said. But he didn't start dialing until she was around the corner and almost to her room.
Buffy couldn't help it. She left her door open, hoping to overhear Spike's side of the conversation with “Anne”. Changing into sweats and a tank top quickly, she made her way back down the hall and stood, out of sight, to listen.
“Yes, love. I found her,” he was saying. “Well, I knew she would be. Yeah. I think so.” His voice got softer and Buffy strained to hear. “Still want us to do this, Anne? Could've just left things… I know. Yeah, me too. I'll ring you again when I'm settled. Bye, love.”
Buffy slipped back down the hall and into her bedroom when she heard him press the off button on the phone. She hated the sick feeling she'd gotten in her stomach when Spike called the other woman “love”. Her head knew that he called most women that. Her heart, though, hurt hearing it. She straightened her bed and tried to look busy until he appeared in her doorway.
“Better push off, Buffy. Didn't realize how late it was.”
Buffy wrapped her arms around her middle and shifted uncomfortably. “Where, ah, are you staying?” she asked.
“Hadn't thought that far ahead, actually,” he said. “Left my stuff in a locker at the airport and came straight here.”
“You can stay in Dawn's room. If you want. She's off at college.”
“Was wondering where little sis had got off to. College, eh? Well go Dawnie.”
“So you'll stay?” she asked hesitantly.
“Your, ah, boyfriend won't mind?” he asked.
“Is that your way of asking if Marco and I are still together?”
He shrugged. “If I've learned one thing over the years, it's to never assume anything about you, Slayer.”
“Wow,” Buffy said, sitting abruptly on the edge of her bed. “I can't remember the last time anyone called me that.”
Spike came further into the room and stood next to her. “You still are, though. The Slayer. Even though the slayer mojo was spread about?”
“Technically, yes,” she said, looking at her hands. “Or as Giles likes to call me, ‘the head Slayer'. Though I feel more like ‘the old maiden aunt Slayer' compared to the others. Did you know there are slayers out there as young as seven? I can't imagine being called at seven. Fifteen was hard enough as it was.”
“You handled it, though. You're still handling it.”
“Yeah, I guess I am.” She looked up at him. “So, you'll take Dawn's room?”
Spike shrugged out of his coat. “Yeah, show me to the land of fluffy huggy toys and teenage girl angst.”
Buffy slapped her knees and stood. “Let's find some sheets for your bed.”
xxxxxxxxxxx
After Buffy located the sheets, Spike helped her make up the bed. When they finished, he stood and looked around at Dawn's room with its yellow walls and piles of stuffed animals everywhere. Buffy watched him as he took it all in.
“Better than Xander's closet?” she asked.
“Space-wise? Much,” he said. “And look. Can ogle Britney Spears before bed.”
Buffy laughed and saw Spike's face crease into a smile. “It feels good,” he said. “To laugh with you. We never did enough of that.”
“We didn't,” Buffy said, still smiling. “But hey, no big apocalypses hanging over our heads right now. Maybe we can make with the merry more.” She looked around. “Clean towels are in the bathroom. Need anything else? Will you be able to sleep?”
“Seeing as it's oh, late afternoon in Los Angeles and I'm usually asleep about now, yeah. Don't think it'll be a problem.”
“Oh. Well, good,” Buffy said. “I'll let you, then. Sleep.”
“Buffy,” he said as she turned to go. She looked back at him, her hand on the bedroom door. “Thanks for not staking me when I sprung myself on you tonight. Wasn't quite fair, the way I did that to you.”
Buffy rested her palm on the door for a second before going back to stand in front of him. She reached her hand up and cupped his face. “I'm glad you're here, Spike. Despite everything, I'm mostly feeling the gladness.” She kissed the hollow beneath his cheekbone and left, closing the door behind her.
Once she was back in her own room, Buffy finally let herself cry—for what was lost, what was found, what could be and what could never be.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Buffy slept very little and when she did, her dreams were filled with fire and ashes. Spike's ashes. She had to stop herself from going into his room to make sure he was still there, still all right.
She finally dragged herself out of bed around eleven that morning. Spike was still asleep when she checked on him. She could see the strong line of his bare back above the sheet. She'd never noticed what a beautiful back he had. She'd never let herself notice.
Buffy closed his door softly and made her way into the kitchen. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table to think. Spike here. With her. Yet also with someone else. Buffy rested her chin in her hand. She couldn't deny all the feelings that had come rushing back when she'd realized it was really Spike standing in her doorway. Anger was there, like she'd said, but tenderness too. And a strange sense of completeness. But did she really want to tie the rest of her life to a vampire? Even if that vampire was Spike?
She shook her head and downed the last of her coffee. Too much introspection makes Buffy a confused girl , she thought as she pushed away from the table. She put her mug in the sink and went to shower.
xxxxxxxxxxxx
The warm water beat down on her head. She soaped her hair and body and refused to think about Spike sleeping in the next room. About his back. About his…
“Buffy?”
She dropped the loofa she'd been circling around her body. “Crap,” she said as she scooped it up. “Spike?”
“Sorry. Phone's been ringing off the hook. Giles must have left ten messages by now.”
“Oh! Thanks,” Buffy said. “I'll be out in just a--” She heard the bathroom door close. Then she mentally beat herself up for being disappointed that he hadn't stayed and tried to sneak a peek as she got out of the shower.
Buffy finished rinsing and turned the water off. She dried off quickly and dressed in a blouse and jeans. She left her hair wet as she went to check the answering machine.
Spike was sitting at the kitchen table with the morning paper in hand. “Can't read a bloody word of this,” he grumbled.
“I usually just look at the pictures,” Buffy said as she pressed the button on the machine. Giles's voice filled the kitchen.
“Buffy, do call me.”
And, “Buffy, I'd really like to know if it actually was Spike you saw. Ring me.”
And, “Buffy? Are you there?”
Several other messages were exactly the same. “Jeez, Giles,” Buffy said as she sank into the chair across from Spike's. “I wasn't in the shower that long.”
“Always was a nosy bastard, your watcher,” Spike commented.
Buffy watched him as he looked through the paper. They'd both been through so much since they'd seen each other last. Yet here they were, sitting with the newspaper. Though she highly doubted any footsie playing would follow.
“Spike,” she said, grabbing his attention. “Why are you here? Not that I'm not glad that you're here, but it sounds like you had something pretty good going with Anne. Why did you decide to come and see me again? After all this time?”
Spike folded the newspaper and slid it to his right. He leaned back in his chair, knees spread. “Honestly? Anne asked me to, to settle things with you. Like I told you, part of me still cares for you. Thought I could put that part aside and be content. But she's right. It's been eating at me, my feelings for you. It's been keeping me from saying—things.”
“Oh. So it was her idea?”
“Not entirely. We're both taking time—trying to figure out where we go from here. Me being here, seeing you, that's my thing. She's off seeing people she once knew and cared for.” He leaned forward in his chair and looked up at her. “Knew I'd find you eventually, Buffy. Have to admit, I still think about you. Wonder what might have been had I not burned…”
“Or had contacted me once you were back.”
“Yeah,” he said. “There's that too.”
They were quiet for a moment. Then Spike said, “So, what will Marco think about me being here?”
Buffy got up to pour herself another cup of coffee. “Chances are he won't know. And if he does, he won't care.”
“Why's that now?”
“We went our separate ways. A while back. He didn't like my slaying and I didn't like his antiquated ideas. So I ended it.” She sat down with her full cup and sipped it carefully.
“The hell you did,” Spike said. “No woman ever leaves the Immortal.”
Buffy shrugged. “Well, this one did.” She leaned forward. “You should have seen his face, too. I thought he was going to have a heart attack. Not that it would have mattered, him being, you know—”
“Immortal,” Spike said.
“Exactly.” Buffy laughed and then sobered as Spike reached across the table to take her hand.
“Buffy. Know you never felt about me the way I felt about you. But we were friends, yeah? Maybe we can be friends again.”
Buffy shook her head. “I don't know if I want us to be friends, Spike.”
“Oh.” Spike pulled his hand away and pushed back from the table. “It was bloody stupid of me to come. Told Anne it would just bring up things long dead and buried. Just needed more time, I did. It's damn hard getting over you, Slayer.” He stood and turned to leave the kitchen.
Buffy stood too and put her hand out to stop him. “Wait. I didn't say that right. Spike, please.”
He stopped and looked at her, waiting. And it struck Buffy how he'd always done that—stopped and waited to hear what she had to say. Like it mattered. Like she mattered. “I still have feelings for you, Spike. I did mean what I said that day and I care about you now. I'm so relieved to see you—even more than I ever imagined. And, yeah, I did imagine it. But I don't want to take you from this new life you've built—from Anne—if that's what's going to make you truly happy. And believe it or not, you deserve to be happy.”
“Not so sure about that, pet. If it's what I deserve.” He took a step toward her. “Recently I've had moments, yeah, thanks to Anne and how she cares for me. But I can't help think how it was you who made me feel--alive.”
Buffy could feel her heart start to race. Talking about happiness—when was the last time she was truly happy? She was, for a time, with Marco, but that ended badly, like always. Would she be dooming Spike if she completely opened her heart to him? Was she considering doing so because she was lonely and sad or could she actually see a life with Spike?
Panicking a little, she changed the subject. “So! Did you want to grab a shower?”
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Buffy called Giles back as Spike went into the bathroom.
“Was it him?” Giles asked anxiously.
“It was,” she answered.
“What is it he wants?”
“Possibly? Me.”
“Excuse me?” Giles asked. Any second now he'd be polishing his glasses.
“He's here to either get closure with me or figure out if there's still something there. The jury's still out on which it is,” Buffy said. She clutched the phone, anticipating Giles's reaction.
“And you told him there was nothing there, correct?”
“Giles,” Buffy said, “I love you. And see how easy it was for me to say that? I've changed a lot these last few years. So has he. He's a good man. Who knows? Maybe this time it can work in a no-beating-each-other-up-and-sleeping-with-my-friends kind of way. He was so different at the end. We were so different.”
“Good God, Buffy. He's a vampire. You deserve so much more.”
“Did you ever stop to think that maybe—just maybe— he's more than I deserve?”
“Now you're being foolish.”
Buffy switched the phone to her other ear. “We had this conversation three years ago. And you were right—my feelings for him do color my judgment. But that doesn't mean what I say isn't true. You don't know him like I do—did—Giles. Like I hope to again. You never did.”
She heard Giles sigh deeply. “I only want what's best for you, Buffy.”
“So do I.”
“Please take care,” Giles said.
“Don't worry so much,” Buffy told him. “If my heart gets broken, it won't be the first time. I can deal.”
They said their goodbyes and Buffy turned off the phone. She set it back in its cradle and stared at it. She didn't know why she hadn't mentioned Anne or the fact that Spike wasn't head over heels for her anymore. Optimism? Fatalism? Denial Buffyism ? She turned from the phone and went to check on Spike.
He was out of the shower and again dressed in his gray t-shirt and jeans. “Should probably pick my bag up from the airport,” he told her.
“Or,” Buffy said, “we could hit the butcher and then go shopping.”
“Pet.”
“My treat. Really. I like the gray, but maybe adding some color to your wardrobe won't kill you. More. Again.” She winked.
“All right. But I get final say, yeah?”
“Of course!” Buffy said, crossing her fingers behind her back.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Shopping with Spike was a new experience. It felt so weirdly domestic. They walked in the shadows of the buildings to the macellaio —butcher—first and asked for enough blood to tide Spike over for a few days. “Making blood sausage,” Buffy told the man behind the counter. He looked confused until Spike pointed at her and mouthed “American” and gave a “What can you do?” shrug. Buffy elbowed Spike in the stomach, but they got his blood.
After dropping that package back at her apartment, she took him to a small shop around the corner where they sold men and women's clothing. She'd save the full shopping experience for after dark when she could show him the Via Condotti and all its stores, bars and sights. The idea of hitting the town with Spike held a certain appeal, Buffy thought. As long as I can get him to buy those gabardine pants and that blue shirt he just tried on. She practically clapped when he agreed, but stopped herself when she realized it was a very Harmony thing to do. Instead, she merely nodded and told the clerk, “Li prenderemo . Grazie.”
They also picked out new shoes, two pairs of jeans and a few shirts and t-shirts. All in all, a successful trip, Buffy thought. Spike grumbled about her “queer eyeing” him.
“One of the nice things about these tiny streets,” Buffy said as they toted their bags back to her apartment, “is that the buildings offer a lot of shade. Though before you showed up, I never thought about it.”
“It is nice. It's nice being out in public with you. Doing normal type things,” Spike said.
“We never really did, did we?” Buffy asked. “Other than taking the Potentials to that demon bar.”
“More work than play, really.”
“True.”
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Once they were back home, Spike heated up some blood and sprawled on the couch to watch TV.
“Some things never do change,” Buffy remarked as she pushed his booted feet off her coffee table.
“Hey, now! Should make you feel good that I'm so at home here already,” he smirked.
Buffy sat next to him. “At home?” she asked, knowing this was probably dangerous territory. “Is that what this is to you?”
Spike grabbed the remote and turned off the television. “Feel comfortable here. With you,” he said.
“And I feel comfortable having you here,” Buffy said. “Isn't that strange? I mean, I'm all for the strangeness of it, but isn't it? Strange?”
“It is, a bit,” Spike agreed. “Especially considering a mere, what, five years ago we were still trying to kill each other. Yeah, I'd call this strange. But nice?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Don't have to sound all shocked, love. We were getting along quite well at the end. Stands to reason we'd turned a corner on our relationship.”
“Spike, what you and I had could never be called a relationship.” Buffy settled her head against the back of the couch.
“Know that now,” he said softly. She glanced at him. He seemed upset.
Buffy put a hand on his arm. “But I'm not saying it could never be a relationship. Now. If we want that. If you want that.”
He turned to her. “What do you want, Buffy? Can you tell me?”
“Now there's a loaded question.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “I want to be loved for me. I was something without pain. I want a partnership. And maybe someday a family.”
“That's one thing I could never give you, love.” He put an arm around her and pulled her closer to his body.
“There are all kinds of families, Spike,” Buffy said. She was getting sleepy. Her rough night was catching up with her. And it felt so good to be resting against his body. Knowing he could take care of her, if she let him. She felt herself drifting. Vaguely she thought she heard Spike say, “Sorry it was never me, gave you those other things.” And then she was asleep.
Submit a Review!