Moving On

 

Buffy folded her arms and watched the car containing her sister pull away from the curve. She let go of the heavy sigh she'd been holding and let the hitch in her chest expand into a warm ache. She barely noticed the warm male arm around her shoulders that happened to be attached to the warm male boyfriend at her side.

"She'll be fine. Xander will get her there in one piece."

"I know. I'm glad for her, really I am. She gets to go to college and she's gonna do great." Buffy burst into tears.

"Hey," he squeezed her shoulder. "I thought you were looking forward to getting her off on her own so you could do more."

"I was... I am." Buffy dried her eyes and looked up into his handsome face. "Did I ever tell you that I was accepted at Northwestern too? Dawn's getting the life I always wanted." She glanced back up the road, where the car was no longer visible. "It's just so far away."

"Yeah," He turned her toward him and took her into his arms. "Far away as in 'somewhere else', as in 'not here right now'."

Buffy smiled into his chest. "Yes, there is that." She nodded toward her apartment. "You wanna...?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

***

Spike had been avoiding this day ever since he heard that Buffy had returned to California. He wanted to see her. It was a burning drive inside him. It filled his days and his dreams. Yet, he didn't know what he would say or what she would say or what it would mean for either of them. When he'd crumbled to nothingness, her last words to him had remained in the shards of his consciousness. Since emerging from that bloody amulet he'd played them over and over again. "I love you, I love you, I love you..."

He'd long since sussed out that his biggest fear would be to discover that she'd said those words to give him a pat on the head for being such a good pet vampire. "That's right, Spike old boy, sit up like a good champion and die in a big blaze of glory. Hey, the world's been saved! Good boy, I love you."

 

He had paced around the neighborhood for most of the night, gathering up the courage to face her again. Now dawn was looming and he was running out of time. He hadn't felt this nervous in Rome, but then Angel had been with him and they'd been trying to find that bloody head. Heh, Angel. That was another issue. The poof had also survived the big showdown in the alley and he needed to tell her all about that too. Everything had changed in the last couple of weeks and she didn't know anything about it. He threw his smoldering cigarette butt onto the sidewalk and opened the main doors of the building. He stood outside her door, shrugged his duster squarely around him, and pressed the buzzer.

***

"Wha's that?" Buffy asked sleepily, rolling over to peer at the clock. Five am?

"Doorbell," he muttered.

"Duh."

"You asked."

She rose, and felt around for her robe. Tying it closed over her filmy nightgown, she made her way through the living room and into the foyer.

"Who is it?"

She heard vague mumbling. It sounded something like 'bleating imp light', but that didn't make any sense. She stood on tiptoe and peeked through the little telescopic piece of glass. She saw what appeared at first to be nothing but white, like someone was holding a sheet of paper over the lens. Eventually she made out a pattern that told her it was hair - white hair. It was the back of someone's head that had bleached white hair.

She rocked back, her heels thudding against the floor. It couldn't be. A sense of unreality overtook her and she slowly approached the door and lifted herself up onto her toes and peeked out again.

She jumped back. Sooo, okay. It was definitely a white-haired head. Didn't mean it was him. There were other people who got carried away with the peroxide and rang people's doorbells at stupid hours, weren't there? Of course, Spike had never been big on ringing doorbells. He was always better at letting himself in at will, and not always letting anyone know he was there.

It occurred to her that her visitor was still waiting, and none to patiently from the sounds of the muttering on the other side of the door. She leaned close to the crack, her hand firm on the knob.

"Yes?" She tried to sound casual, as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening, as if her world hadn't just been turned upside down.

"Buffy? Buffy!"

Okay. That was Spike, no doubt about it. What to do now? She wasn't dressed and her hair was a mess and what if her mascara was smudged? Plus he was in the bedroom. Oh, God.

"Buffy, love, it's me. Let me in, okay? I need a bleeding invite."

So that's what he'd been muttering about. She couldn't help smiling. She opened the door. "Spike. I don't believe this. How...?" She stood back. "Come in."

He stepped forward, ducking his head a bit, as if a barrier might smack against him. His way was clear and he moved into her foyer, looking around at the walls, the furniture, the vases on the tables - anywhere except at her.

"Hey," she finally said, "you don't look dead."

He finally looked at her, "And you look wonderful."

"So do you." Her voice was uncharacteristically airy as she moved toward him and reached for his face. She pulled back slightly; oddly afraid that if she were to touch him, she might find out he wasn't real after all. She moved even closer and let her fingers drift over his jaw line and toward his lips. Her eyelids drifted slowly closed as she leaned up to taste him.

"Buffy? Who was at the door?"

She jumped, as if splashed with ice water. How could she have forgotten? He clomped over to her and wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her up against his bare torso. Couldn't he have at least grabbed a shirt? And he was wearing his boxers!

"Who's your friend?" he asked.

"Funny," Spike cocked his head at him then turned his narrowed gaze toward Buffy. "I was going to ask her the same question."

"Oh, you guys," Buffy giggled nervously. She nudged her boyfriend in the ribs hoping he'd loosen up a little bit so she could do something mundane, like breathe. If anything he held her even tighter. "You're such... guys." She was still giggling. Okay, so that was lame. She didn't know what she was saying or even if this whole thing was real. It couldn't be real, could it?

She gestured toward Spike, "This is Spike. He's, um, he's an old friend that I haven't seen in, oh, ages." She turned her bright smile onto the man beside her. "And Spike, this is..."

"The new man, I see." Spike's eyes were still narrowed and it looked to Buffy as though he was chewing on the inside of his bottom lip. Never a good sign.

"Nice to meet you." A large hand was extended toward Spike and ignored. "I've heard of you from Giles."

"Yeah, I see Buffy didn't tell you anything about old Spike. That's right interesting."

"Spike..."

"We go back a long way. Surprised she didn't think it was important enough to bring up. See, we fought some big bads together, she and I, and had our share of fun times too, killing demons and trying to off each other sometimes too. Oh, and did I forget to mention all the shagging?"

"Spike!"

"He does know you're the Slayer, doesn't he, love?"

"Of course, he's a..."

"Ah," Spike raised his eyebrows, "A Watcher, ain't he? I could tell by the starch in his shorts."

She rolled her eyes. "Can we not do this?"

"Sure," he nodded. "I'll just be on my way then."

He was walking away before it could sink through her muddled mind that he meant to leave. Since when did Spike let go like that? It was so... not him. She wasn't going to call him or chase after him. He needed to grow up and decide they could talk this out like grown ups. And she was going to tell him that too. "Spike!" she yelled, chasing him down the hallway.

He stopped, but didn't turn.

"Hey, we need to talk."

"Never done too well with that, Slayer." He still wasn't looking at her.

"I didn't even know you were alive. I've got to let this sink in. I never thought I'd ever see you again."

He looked at her over his shoulder. "Now you know I'm around. Look me up sometime."

He was off again, with elevator doors closing between them. She stood and, for a second time that day, watched someone she cared about leave her behind.

***

She closed the door behind her solidly. "Did you know about this?"

"Did I know that William the Bloody was back and living in LA? Yes. We had a report earlier this year."

"A report? You had a report? I've been working hand in hand with the Council. Why didn't I get a report?"

He began to fumble around with his briefcase, which he'd collected after getting dressed, even though it was too early for him to go to work. He hadn't wasted any time suiting up in his armor after she'd left him to follow the stupid vampire. Now he was on full Watcher mode.

"Answer me."

He apparently decided to give up on evading her question and finally snapped the briefcase closed, meeting her cool stare with one of his own. "It was specifically requested that you not be told of the resurrection."

"By who, Giles? I thought he was over all the hard feelings."

"By him," he nodded toward the door. "He didn't want you to be told."

"Spike wouldn't do that. He would have come to me as soon as he could. I couldn't get rid of him back when I hated him. Why would he avoid me when I...?"

"When you what?" He was suddenly standing in front of her, and suddenly not looking at all Watcherly.

"When we were... friends. We were friends when he..."

"Friends." He stepped away, his tone distant. He collected his case and moved to the door. "I'm going to work. We can talk later."

Buffy frowned. "Yeah, okay. We'll talk."

She barely registered that he didn't kiss her goodbye. She was too busy wondering where Spike could have gone this close to sunrise and how she could find him.

***

Spike kicked the tiny Svelbrat demon squarely in what he believed was its furry green stomach. It let out a squeal as it flew over the cement barricade and landed with a wet splat on the dark street that ran past the cemetery.

 

He'd gone out looking for a bit of blood sport as soon as the sun was low enough in the sky to make for a safe patrol. Most of the day had been spend brooding in a dank crypt that reminded him far too much of the one he'd lived in back in Sunnydale. He hated brooding and thankfully he had come across this diversion easily enough. A group of the little imps were gnawing on the remains of a recently departed jogger. They weren't strong enough to give him a real challenge, but at least he'd had a good five minute spot of fun to spare him from the madness of thinking about his encounter with Buffy.

 

He'd known that when she'd left Europe she'd left The Immortal behind. There'd been plenty of reports about the wanker and his new conquests. He figured that having an army of Slayers to work through would keep the bugger occupied for the next twenty years or so. He hadn't counted on Buffy moving on to yet another man. He'd known that she hadn't meant those three little words she'd blurted out to ease his passing into the world of dust, but the proof of it hurt all the same.

 

He stalked over to a still Svelbrat to see if there were any signs of life. They emitted a delightful squeak when stepped on. Unfortunately, he'd done too good a job of finishing this one off earlier.

 

"What are you doing?"

 

He whirled around to see her leaning against a tall monument. She looked amused. That did nothing for his irritation level.

 

"You seem to be too busy with your love life to take care of business, pet. Demons are taking over right under your nose."

 

"That's a demon? Looks more like a moldy Tribble."

 

"Tell that to the main entree over there." He nodded at the dead woman by the wall.

 

"These little guys did that?"

 

"Well you see, they have a..."

 

"We need to talk."

 

"Thought we were talking, Slayer. Little green fuzzy guys, dead people."

 

"You know what I mean."

 

He sighed heavily. "Yeah." He looked around the quiet cemetery and sniffed, then frowned. "But first we need to..."

 

"No. No 'first we need to' crap. I want to know how long you've been back and why you didn't want anyone to tell me about it. Where have you been? What have you been doing? Do you still have a soul?"

 

"Buffy..."

 

"Do you still love me?"

 

Her voice took on a squeak with that last part, and Spike's resolve melted a bit, even as he knew he had to get her out of the way. She had no idea what was coming. He grasped her shoulder and shoved her between the large stone and the wall, holding her against it with his body while he clasped his hand over her mouth.

 

His hand muffled her angry "What are you doing?" He shushed her and peered around the stone to see if his senses had been correct in their warnings.

 

Yep. Bloody hell.

 

The female Svelbrat was lumbering directly toward them. She stopped to investigate the carcass of one of her slain mates. She moved to the next dead lump of fur, and then the next. She pulled herself up to her full height of nine feet and let out an earthshaking roar.

 

Spike felt Buffy stiffen as she stopped muttering against his palm. "You ready for a fight, Slayer?"

 

She calmed and smiled wickedly. His heart surged as he witnessed her transformation into the breathtaking warrior she was. He felt her hand slide down the length of his leg, then back up and into the top of his boot. Ah, she remembered. This was his girl.

 

She held up the knife. "Let's go."

 

***

 

Buffy welcomed the surge of confidence that ran up her spine. She hated being off-balance with all the curves that life had thrown her lately. First she found out that the Immortal jerk in Italy was screwing around on her with everybody, then Dawn's choice to attend college in the States, and now Spike was back and still a vampire and very, very solid and real. He still kept a knife tucked in his boot and he still got that look of lust in his eyes when a big battle was brewing. This she could relate to.

 

"Let's go."

 

Spike's nod was all she needed and she whirled around the monument to face the new arrival. She jumped high while Spike went low, both of them tackling the huge demon as one. It wobbled, but didn't fall. Buffy was flung away and landed hard on the ground. She saw Spike rise with his wicked grin in place. He roared and went game-faced and dove in again. She led with her feet and this time they managed to topple the behemoth.

 

Buffy detected a strong, steady thud from the vicinity of the monster's fat, furry midsection. She thrust with the knife, and jumped back to avoid the spurting black blood. The demon thrashed and screamed, then died.

 

She watched Spike pick himself up off the ground again and move to the demon to retrieve his knife. After wiping most of the gore onto the grass, he dropped it back into his boot and straightened his coat.

 

"So that was the furry green critter queen?" she asked.

 

"Yeah, good thing she was young – not fully grown."

 

"You're kidding, right?"

 

Spike shook his head. "Don't those Watchers teach you anything in demonology class?"

 

"I was never much good at homework. And have you heard Giles' lectures?"

 

Spike's grin turned into a glower. "What about this new guy?"

 

"What new guy?" Buffy's eyes widened. "Oh, you mean the new guy I was with this morning. I've never heard his lectures. He hasn't been around long."

 

"Long enough, I'd say." He strode away from her.

 

She chewed her lip for a minute while she thought about what she could say, then ran to catch him, falling into step beside him.

 

"Hey, what's with the attitude? I'm not allowed to date?"

 

"'S your life. Do what you want."

 

"Wait a minute!" She grasped his arm and almost pulled him off his feet. "You were dead. DEAD. Except you weren't, but nobody wanted to let me know about that. No. Little Buffy needed to go on with her normal little life. Mustn't interfere with that, pip pip and tally ho."

 

"Nobody says that Slayer, not even old Rupert."

 

She continued on, ignoring him. "So I tried to go on with my life. Isn't that what you wanted? Girls my age date and have boyfriends and do fun things once in a while. Was I wrong to hang out with a guy who has a good job and seemed interested in me? Someone who had some understanding of who I am and what I do and didn't treat me like I was some kind of a freak?"

 

"Buffy..."

 

"Don't you think that things might have been a little different if you'd even bothered to pick up a phone and say, 'Hey Buffy, I happen to be back – how about going out for some coffee so we can talk about our little apocalypse?' But nobody gave me that option."

 

This time Buffy was the one who stalked away. Stupid men. Too bad the big smelly demon was dead. She was in the mood to kill it all over again.

 

"You're right, love," she heard him call.

 

She stopped and waited for him to catch her. "Don't even try to make some kind of lame excuse to me," she gritted out between clenched teeth. "I'm a grown woman and I have a right to know what's going on."

 

"You're right." He touched her lightly, then dropped his hand. "I did want you to have a normal life. We both did."

 

"Both?"

 

"Me and Angel."

 

Buffy gasped. "Angel? You've been with Angel all this time?"

 

"Most of it, yeah."

 

"But I talked to him. He never said..." She shook her head. None of this was doing anything to alleviate her anger. "Just tell me what happened last year."

 

"It's a long story."

 

"I've got all night Spike."

 

***

 

His voice was tired. He sounded scratchy and hoarse to his own ears. Buffy had said they had all night, and it had taken most of it to explain about how things had gone for him. They'd found a hard concrete bench and she'd had a lot of questions that he'd answered as best he could. She was leaning against him, her hand on his arm and her head on his shoulder and he never wanted to move. To be sitting with her again, touching her – it was more than he ever hoped would happen. Still, the sun was threatening to make its early morning appearance and he knew that it was time to go.

 

"Buffy, pet. I need to go."

 

"No."

 

He smiled. He loved this girl so much. "Sun's coming up. You've already seen me fry once."

 

"Don't say that. I don't want to think about that."

 

"I need to find a place to park for the day."

 

"No you don't." She sat up and stretched, then rose. "You're coming with me."

 

"Stay at your place?" The girl was daft. "Your apartment looked small, and three's a crowd."

 

She grasped his hand and pulled him up. "Come on."

 

***

 

She unlocked the door, and stood aside as he walked in. It felt good to have Spike with her again. She watched him look around the apartment and sniff curiously.

 

"He isn't here," she told him.

 

"Where...?"

 

"He's gone. He won't be back." She walked to a small alcove in the back and opened the refrigerator. "I've got some blood in here that I bought earlier. I'm starving and I'm sure you are too."

 

"Okay."

 

He seemed hesitant as he joined her in the kitchenette. That just wouldn't do.

 

"Spike, it's all right. It's just us." She set a mug in the microwave and pushed some buttons. It began making its comforting whirr. She took the opportunity to pour cereal and milk into a bowl, then, at the ding, removed his drink and handed it to him.

 

They both sat silently, eating their meals. When they finished, Buffy collected up the dishes and put them in the sink.

 

"Do you want to take a shower or anything?" She asked.

 

"Wouldn't hurt, demon entrails and all."

 

"I know," she smiled, "me too." She pushed him toward the bathroom door. "You first."

 

"Uh, Buffy?" He seemed so hesitant, so unsure of his place here. "After the shower, where do I..."

 

"With me, Spike," she said. "There's only one bed and I don't have a couch yet. Come on."

 

"I'm not sure you want..."

 

"I'm sure."

 

***

 

He walked to her, trying to tamp down the greed that was telling him to take what she offered and not tell her everything. He wanted her so much he could taste it.

 

He knew his feelings were showing in his expression as she moved to him, taking his head in her hands and kissing him slowly and deeply. He wanted to drown in her lips, in the taste of her and in the feel of her body. He didn't care that the day before she'd been with another man or that her heart really belonged with yet another. He only wanted...

 

"Buffy," he pulled away, shaking his head. "There's something you need to know."

 

"I know I want you."

 

"I want you too, but this isn't right. It wouldn't be fair to you when you don't know about Angel."

 

"What about Angel? You said he made it through the big battle." She pulled back, worried. "Were you lying about that?"

 

"No, no. Angel made it. He's fine. He's alive."

 

"Whew, good. I just got you back. I couldn't handle losing him. We're not together, but I still love him."

 

Spike swallowed down his disappointment, but he knew he was right to let her know. "I don't think you understand, pet. He's alive."

 

"Alive, as in..."

 

"Lungs, heart, whining. Yeah. One hundred percent human, in no danger of losing his soul."

 

Buffy pulled away from him, her expression full of confusion. "How?"

 

He shrugged. "Some old prophecy. Ever heard of a Shanshu?"

 

"Is that anything like a Birkenstock?"

 

"Long and short of it is that he played his part in saving the world from big bads and he got his life back as a big reward."

 

"Wow." She turned away from him. "I didn't know."

 

"He's getting used to the idea himself. He lost some good people that night. 'S a lot to adjust to."

 

"Did the Council know this too?"

 

He shook his head. "No. Just me and the blue demon girl I told you about, and now you."

 

Buffy's eyes glowed. "That's amazing. I mean it's so... I don't have the words."

 

He bit back his disappointment. There would be plenty of time for that later. For now he had to give his girl her dream. "He's still in LA. I could take you over there."

 

She was silent as she moved back to him. She studied his expression. "Okay," she finally said. "We can do that."

 

He nodded.

 

"Tomorrow."

 

"Don't you mean tonight, love?"

 

"No," she said calmly, "I said tomorrow, or maybe the day after that, or next week. Maybe next month."

 

"I don't understand. You love him."

 

"Yes I do." She kissed him, then smiled into his stunned face. "But I happen to be in love with you, and we have a lot of time to make up."

 

"He's human, Buffy. He can give you what you want."

 

"No, Spike. He can't." She put her arms around him and brushed her smooth, warm cheek against his face. "Only you can do that, and I'd really like for you to try. Now, please."

 

"Now is good."

 

She smiled up at him as she drew him into the bedroom. "Yeah, now works. And later. Then later."

 

"What about my shower?"

 

"We can do that too."

 

"That's my girl."

 

"You'd better believe it."

 

"I do, Buffy. I do."

 

And for the first time, he really did.

 

~End~