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| Resolutions, Cont'd |
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| 'F all the human and demonic livin' things there are, Spike reflected, women're the most mysterious. " 'Ow can yeh tell?" "Well you just have this air of melancholy nostalgia about you...love trouble seemed the most likely reason. You wanna tell me about it? I'm pretty non-judgmental...." Spike hesitated for long moments, thinking about whether it was too great a can of worms to open. He decided that with sufficient editing, and judicious selection of his words... "Well, she did tell me to shove off a couple of years ago, turned out for the right reasons. But I made some changes what needed makin', 'n' we were gettin' to a better place, maybe coulda made it work...but, er..." eh thought for a moment, "work took us to different places an' we've been outta touch for a bit now. Been workin' out how t'change that, but...." The words hung there as Spike searched for what came next. Leaning forward with his foreadms on his knees, and his fingertips making a pyramid, he finally concluded, "'s jus' always been real complicated." "Do you love her?" "Mor'n jus' 'bout anythin'." "She love you?" He shook his head and laughed softly at that. "Not sure. Not sure she's ever been sure one way or t'other...." "Eh, those are the tricky ones...when one person's feelings are different than the other's." "No kiddin'." "So, what's she like?" He was taken aback at that. He'd expected some sage and well-intentioned, but wildly inappropriate advice. She really was non-judgmental. Rare bird, Spike thought approvingly. He sat back in his chair again before answering. "Mess o'contradictions, that one. Faced more troubles in th' last few years than anyone should in a set o' lifetimes. Built up this hard shell, tryin' to keep the hurt away. Other folks didn' always see 'at was what she was doin'. But I'd look in 'er great green eyes, an' I could see all the fear and pain hidin' away inside. An' when I could make that go away for a bit, that was good...." Em nodded as he spoke, smiling kindly at his heartfelt words. "An' in the big stuff, she was as unselfish as they come. And beautiful...like a warm summer day...She -- I'm in awe of her." She reached towards him and gave his hand a squeeze at that, and they sat quietly for some time, until a commotion along the street made Em look at her watch and exclaim that the new year was just a few minutes away. She busied herself opening the champagne she'd packed, and soon Spike found himself grudgingly joining her in the final countdown to 2004. As cheers of "Happy New Year" went up from the assembled crowd, and noisemakers backed a woefully off-key rendition of Robbie Burns' classic song, Spike swallowed down the proffered bubbly. Who knows...things might look up...there's always that buggerin' Shanshu to take from Peaches, 'r at least to goad 'im with...that's a year's worth of inspiration right there! He allowed the group jocularity to carry him along, and he and Em joked and chatted, and flirted a bit -- Spike wondered why she'd never remarried; she struck him as a good sort of gal to share a roof with -- until the champagne had her dozing in her lawn chair. He tucked her blanket closer around her and regretfully wished her a silent farewell. It was better not to have to explain his departure ahead of the sunrise, so under cover of her slumber, he made his way back to the MTA station and boarded a tram back to Union Station. As the near-empty train car clattered along, Spike speculated whether he and Buffy would one day meet again like the couple in Fogelberg's song...virtual strangers thrown together incidentally, with just a tiny, if significant, sliver of their life's events binding them together. Would they find that beyond that bond, they'd have little else, save uncomfortable silence and regrets and "might have beens" between them? 'At's a pansy-arsed way to take it, Spike -- jus' waitin' ta turn into some pop song. Musing about the pathetic-case scenario had made up his mind. When Wolfram & Hart reopened, he'd go and say his farewells, and set out to find his girl. Decision made, he smiled at the tipsy couple riding at the end of the car who had stopped their snogging long enough to take a breath and sing another chorus of Auld Lang Syne. This time, Spike whistled along. Happy New Year! |
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| This story nominated at: |
| Acknowledgements ~ - Response to PJzallday's Christmas songfic challenge at We Band of Buggered, a YahooGroup of Spike fans |
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| ~ fin ~ |
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