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
When Buffy woke up, she was stretched out on the couch with an afghan draped over her. Spike was gone. She could feel the emptiness of the apartment. She sat up suddenly, worried. She'd just pushed herself off the couch when she noticed the note on the coffee table. She picked it up.
Buffy—
Didn't want to wake you. Gone to airport to collect my things.
Back soon.Spike
She sighed, partly in relief and partly in irritation. He wasn't gone gone , but he couldn't wait for her to go with him? Spike from four years ago would have awakened her by spreading her legs and using his tongue—
But that wasn't this Spike. And she wasn't that Buffy. She'd known how to keep that Spike at a distance. She'd used him. They'd hurt each other. Badly. But was it wrong that part of this Buffy wanted this Spike to do some of the more athletic things she'd done with that Spike?
Okay, morally, knowing about Anne, yeah, it was wrong for her to want that. But that last year when she and Spike were no longer physical in “that way” and the world was falling down around her, she'd only found real comfort in his arms. She'd wanted him, even then. Even now. And frankly, Buffy was tired of always doing the right thing. Right thing for everyone but her. If Spike truly wanted to explore where this thing between them could go, she'd try the “every woman for herself” approach for once. One thing her time with Marco had taught her was how to finally let go of some of the crushing responsibility that dominated so much of her life and just enjoy .
She went to get dressed. When Spike got back, she was taking him out on the town.
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Buffy twisted around to see the back of her dress in the mirror. Not bad. She'd gained a little bit of weight since seeing Spike last and fortunately it mostly showed up in the breast area and not in her butt. The black dress she wore was backless and sleeveless, fastened at the neck, halter-style. It said Versace on the label, but the price had been so reasonable, Buffy kind of doubted it was real. But it didn't matter. She looked good.
As she was pulling her hair back with clips she heard a light knock on her front door. She went to look through the peephole and saw Spike standing on the other side. Her whole body sagged in relief. He came back. He wasn't an illusion.
Buffy pulled the door open. “Forgot your key, honey?” she teased.
Spike just stared at her, his bag gripped loosely in his hand. She moved out of the doorway to let him in. He walked past her but never took his eyes off her. “Are we going somewhere, love?” he finally asked.
“I am taking you dancing,” Buffy told him.
“You can dance in that dress?” he asked.
She looked down at herself and then back at him. “Of course. Why couldn't I?”
“Look bloody gorgeous, Slayer. You know you do. Not much to that thing, though. Stiff breeze and away it blows.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Oh please. It's got this strong claspy thing right back here.” She turned and showed him her back before moving her hair to the side so he could see what she was talking about. She could feel him touch the fastening before his knuckles brushed her nape. She looked over her shoulder at him. He blinked quickly and stepped back.
“Right then,” he said, still sounding unsure. “Long time since I danced. Hope I don't disappoint.”
“I'll take the chance,” she said. “Go get changed.”
When he came out of Dawn's room a few minutes later, it was Buffy's turn to stare. The blue shirt really brought out the blue in his eyes and the dark pants clung and hung in all the right places. He grabbed his coat from over one of the kitchen chairs and held his elbow out to her. “Shall we?” he asked.
“Thing is?” Buffy said, taking his arm. “All I have in the way of transportation is my Vespa. Not great for a dress like this. I called a taxi, if you don't mind.”
“Don't mind a bit. Let's go paint the town.”
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The taxi dropped them off at Club Primo, a bar and dance club off the Via Monte di Testaccio . Buffy took Spike's hand and led him to the front of the line. The bouncer nodded when he saw her and let them right in.
“How'd you do that?” Spike said into her ear so she'd hear him above the music.
Buffy's lips brushed his cheek before reaching his ear. “Marco and I used to come here.”
“Bloody hell,” Spike said, shaking his head.
Buffy raised an eyebrow him. “What?” she asked.
“It's nothing. Just the damned Immortal. Irritating bugger.”
Buffy smiled and shrugged. “It's just a club, Spike. We can go to a different one, if you want.”
“No. Not changing our plans because of that bastard,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Let's go cut a rug, shall we, pet?”
Buffy led him onto the dance floor and wrapped her arms around his neck. The song was a relatively slow one and their bodies rocked together to the beat. Buffy had figured he could dance, just from watching him walk and the way his body had moved during sex. He didn't disappoint her at all.
Spike's hands ghosted up and down the bare skin of her back, like he was afraid to actually hold her. Buffy knew she was pushing things, but she moved even closer to him, brushing his hips with the gyrations of hers. She let go of his neck to lift her hair off her shoulders and let it slide through her fingers. Spike watched her, his eyes unreadable.
“Love this song,” Buffy yelled to him.
“Bet you say that about all the songs,” he yelled back with a smile.
“Most,” she agreed. She covered his hands, which were gently resting on her hips, and forced him to really feel the way her body moved to the beat. Nice thing about his looser pants, she could see how her dancing was affecting him.
“ You letting out your inner Faith tonight, love?” Spike spoke directly into her ear.
Buffy's movements faltered for a second. He thought she was putting on an act for him? She didn't think she was, but did it matter anyway? She wanted to have fun. To have fun with Spike. “Nope. It's just me here with you,” she told him, resuming her swaying.
“Always were a hot little thing,” Spike said, finally allowing his hands to guide her hips, rather than just reacting to their motions. He pulled her pelvis to his and ground his erection against her. Buffy's breasts pressed into his chest and she threw her head back, enjoying the feel of him. When he gently sucked on her exposed neck, she could feel the wetness between her legs. She lifted her head slowly to look into his eyes. His pupils were dilated and he looked almost hungry for her, but there was no sign of his demon—just of a man who wanted to fuck her very, very much.
And then, like a candle blown out, that look was gone.
Spike released Buffy's hips and stepped away from her. “Let's get some drinks, yeah?” he asked. He didn't wait for her answer and left her standing there as he went for the bar.
Buffy was stunned. What just happened here? One second he wants to tear my dress off and the next he can't get away from me fast enough? She followed him, confused. She'd never seen that look just disappear from Spike's face before. Granted, it was a long time since she'd seen it at all, but it was usually followed by hours of inventive sex, not a visit to the bar for tequila and limes. But that's what he was ordering, with a beer chaser. He gestured to the stool next to him.
“Have a seat, Slayer. Feel like getting plastered. Join me?”
Buffy sat on the stool. “You know? Yes. Plastered and wallpapered for me.”
Spike ordered another shot, a lime and a beer for her and showed her how to slam it all back. After two more rounds, Buffy decided to confront him.
“What happened out there?” she asked, swinging her arm in the direction of the dance floor. “You gave me your look—your ‘I'm gonna have you naked and under the rug in 12 seconds' look and then—POOF—it was gone.”
Spike cringed. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”
“What?” Buffy said. “That's it? Just ‘ Sorry about that, pet'?”
“Still do a godawful impression of me, love.”
She grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Are you in there? Spike? What did she do to you?”
“She loved me. She took care of me. She forgave me.”
“What? And you think I can't do all those things for you too?” Buffy said, letting go of him and throwing her arms in the air. “I already told you I love you. And I forgave you!” She rubbed her temples before saying, “Wait. What did Anne forgive you for?”
“You remember, Buffy. When Dru and me came to town? Your friend wanted to be a vampire? When we burst in the place, Anne was the first one came up to me. I bit her. Would have killed her if you hadn't stopped me.”
Buffy caught her breath. “Oh,” she said slowly. “She was Chan-something or other then. I'd forgotten that.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Spike signaled the bartender to bring them more shots. “Think she didn't realize it was me when she took me off the street and patched me up. Later, though, she knew. Reminded me of it. Somehow forgave me for it.”
Buffy slammed back her new shot and sucked on her lime. She made a face. “Don't these things usually start tasting better the more you drink?”
That made Spike laugh . “Remember the last time you got drunk with me, Slayer? Threw up all over my boots, you did. Not aching to repeat that little scene, if you don't mind.”
Buffy was silent for a few moments. Suddenly she turned to him. “So it was what? The forgiving thing? ‘ Cause I so did that, even if I never came right out and said the words.”
“Buffy…”
“I got you back from the First, let you stay in my home, had your chip removed, defended you to everyone—especially to Giles . I chose you, Spike, to wear that damn amulet. To be my champion. And I went to you those last nights. You. No one else. And you still think I didn't forgive you? Didn't mean it when I said I love you?”
“You pitied me. Poor freak Spike. Got his soul ‘cause no matter what, he's still love's bitch. Felt responsible for me, did you? Threw me some crumbs. Kept me around. Your pet vampire to use as a bloody teaching device. ‘Oh, see him get all fangy ! Come at me Spike! Let me show them how I smack you ‘round.'”
Buffy stared at him with her mouth open a little. “That is so not how it was and you know it. Yeah, I felt sorry for you at first with the whacked-out-ness. But I told you—I saw you. I saw how you'd changed. I saw it before the soul, though I couldn't—wouldn't—admit it. We were partners. Friends.”
“But not lovers,” he said bitterly. He knocked his shot back and finished his beer.
“You think I don't love you because we weren't having sex ? While the house was packed with teenagers?” Buffy asked, shocked at the angry look on his face.
“Well, yeah. Real love and sex—they kind of go together as I see it.”
“God, you really are a man.”
He shook his head at her. “And you really are insufferable. Don't you see? I don't blame you for not wanting to shag me. Didn't deserve it then. Don't deserve it now.”
Buffy downed the rest of her beer, feeling frustrated as hell. “Were you and Anne having sex?” she demanded.
Suddenly Spike was fascinated with something on his shoe. Buffy put her hand under his chin and made him look at her. “Well? You can tell me. After all, I was ‘shagging' the Immortal, though I thought you were dead .”
“Yes,” Spike said. He didn't elaborate.
“Why?” Buffy asked. “Why is it okay to have sex with her, but you don't ‘deserve' it with me?”
“I care for her…”
“But you don't love her,” Buffy said. She thought she finally understood him. Damn him. He still had her on some pedestal.
“I care for her,” Spike said once more. “No, not like I cared for you.” He let his head fall back and closed his eyes. “Who am I kidding? Not like I still care for you. But I didn't hurt her the way I hurt you. Because I'd never promised I wouldn't .”
“Spike, look at me.” He did, though his face was still creased in a frown. “I . Forgive . You. I think you forgive me. So the question really is: When will you forgive yourself?”
“One to talk, Slayer.”
“I've grown up a bit,” she said, tilting her chin up.
“So I see.” He looked her up and down and gave her a half-hearted leer. Then he sighed. “But there's still Anne. That's why I stopped our dance.”
Buffy took her empty shot glass and squashed her lime with it. “If there's still Anne, why did you even come?”
“I don't know, now, do I?” Spike said, getting angry again. “Thought I'd come ‘round, say hello and cheers and bump up my flight. Never thought you having feelings for me was a possibility! Knew we fought and fucked well together, but never thought you'd consider being with me. Now I'm fucked but good.”
“But why ?” Buffy asked, exasperated.
Spike laughed humorlessly and looked away. “It's like I'm around you and—”
“And what?”
“And I can't bloody well not be around you .”
Buffy finished pulverizing her lime with the shot glass and then wiped it up with a cocktail napkin. She looked at him. “And if I feel the same way?”
He stared at her, eyes narrowed. “Do you know what you're say—”
“ C'è un mostro qui fuori ! C'è un mostro qui fuori !”
“What the hell?” Spike asked as a frantic young man ran through the crowd, pulling on people's sleeves.
“He says there's a monster outside,” Buffy said. “I wonder if he means that literally.”
The man ran up to the bar and said, “ Aiuto ! La mia ragazza è in pericolo !”
“Your girlfriend's in danger?” Buffy asked him.
“Right gentleman, leaving her alone with the thing,” Spike commented.
“ Sì ! Aiuto ! Help me! Please! Telephone? You have a telephone?” he asked, noticing Buffy rummaging around in her purse.
She pulled out a stake. “No. Something a little pointier.” She looked to Spike. He nodded and they stood. Adrenaline cleared Buffy's head. “Where? Uh, dov'è ?”
“Out the back,” he said, pointing to a door near the hall to the restrooms. “We go? We go outside for—“
“Sex?” Spike asked.
“No—for sigaretta .” The man quickly mimed puffing on an invisible cigarette.
“Oh,” Spike said. He gave Buffy a “What?” look when she glared at him.
“And this thing—this monster—he grabs her!”
“Let's go,” Buffy said.
Spike nodded, quickly following her.
They burst through the exit and found themselves in an alley. Buffy could hear a woman screaming. “You ready?” she asked Spike.
“Always,” he answered. “Gonna have ourselves some fun .”
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