Chapter
5.05
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002
"Tell Dawn, if it's after half past eleven
when we get in, we expect her to be in bed." Buffy rolled
down the car window, to call out to the former watcher as the
car pulled away, leaving Wes to start up his bike.
"Will do. Take care," the watcher called
back, unable to come up with an entirely suitable good luck expression
for the occasion.
"Where to, pet?" the vampire asked
as they pulled up near the first intersection.
"How about back to mine, and I can put on
some jeans and get my coat and helmet and stuff? Then, we can
take this old lady back to yours and swap for the bike?"
"And then?"
"I seem to recall you expressing a preference
for the coast road."
"Sounds like a plan. Have you eaten today?"
"Other than tea made from potentially lethal
mushrooms? No. And just when I thought Lily might be starting
to like me."
"She is, I think. There's a Tex-Mex diner
about an hour up the coast that we could try, if you can wait
that long. Make up for you missing out on Saturday? And if we
go up the coast, we can just drive as far as we want without worrying
that we're going to hit LA again."
Buffy's attention was caught by the way Spike
was squinting in the sunlight that was newly able to penetrate
through to the car's interior. Orbs or no orbs, he was still highly
photosensitive.
"Sorry about the holes in the paint job.
Wes just couldn't drive it without making a couple of gaps to
see through. I'll get some paint tomorrow."
"S' Okay. I've been thinking about scraping
it all off. It just means if we have to take her out through the
day, then you have to drive and I stay in the back under a blanket.
Thing is, we have to keep her out of sight of Bit's lover-boy
otherwise, and she's bound to be parked up at your place sometime
when he shows up, or we're going to need her to pick Bit up or
something."
"You'd do that?" Buffy asked.
"Well. yeah. You've driven her before, haven't
you?" Spike knew exactly which part of his statement she
had meant.
"Not with your permission."
"Buffy, there's no reason you can't drive
better than most, except confidence. Your reflexes are better.
Your co-ordination is better. You just need practice and maybe
a few proper lessons to refresh your memory, that's all."
"Are you offering?"
"To pay for them, yeah. To teach you, no
way. Don't you think we argue enough as it is? Besides, you don't
want to pick up ninety years worth of bad habits."
Buffy flushed slightly and gazed at him sideways
through her lashes. "I thought I already had, and I like
when we argue sometimes, or at least the making-up part."
Spike let out a low groan. "Keep that up,
and we won't even get to your place, pet. And talking is going
to be way down on the list of activities."
"As long as it's on the list somewhere,
does it matter?"
Spike sighed as he made the turn onto Revello.
"That would depend on how long we have before the next crisis."
True to his word, just over an hour later, Spike
pulled in at a roadside diner. Even though it was too late for
most lunch patrons and too early for most evening customers, half
a dozen cars were spaced out in the lot to the side of the building.
Around the other side of the building there was a filling station,
but the front of the diner was clear from obstruction so that
those patrons lucky enough to get a window seat had an unobstructed
view of the beach on the other side of the road. Waves crashed
against the few boulders that poked up through the smooth pale
sand.
Spike took off his sunglasses and lit up a cigarette
even before Buffy had climbed off from behind him. His jaw was
clenched so tight she didn't need to see his eyes or touch his
skin to know how tense he was.
"How about we just grab a snack for now?"
Buffy suggested. "We can go for a walk on the beach and get
a proper meal when we get back?"
"Sure?" the vampire asked.
"Sure. I don't think I could do a meal justice
until we get things straight between us."
Spike gave her a wry smile, head tilted forward
so that he looked at her through his lashes. "It'd be a shame
if you couldn't appreciate their chilli-and-chocolate cheesecake."
Buffy gave him a sceptical glance, as if she
thought he was making up the strange-sounding dish.
"Got to be tried," he added, before
throwing down the half-smoked cigarette and holding out his hand.
"Trust you to find somewhere that even puts
chilli in the desserts," Buffy responded as she placed her
hand in his and let him draw her with him into the restaurant.
"But it works. You'll see."
The diner was decorated with various items that
were meant to suggest the Tex-Mex theme Spike had led her to expect.
Old wanted posters, or more likely more recent replicas stained
with coffee to suggest ageing and framed prints from photographs
of Pancho Villa and various others adorned the walls. All the
tables were finished with brightly painted tiles, and when Buffy
saw the sizzling fajita platter that was brought to the next booth
she realised why.
A middle-aged waitress came bustling over almost
as soon as they slid into the last window booth, hands still clasped
across the table. "Hi, I'm Mary. Can I take your drinks order
while you have a look at the menu?"
Spike drew his eyes away from Buffy long enough
to give her a brief smile. "Just a coffee for me, please,
pet. Espresso, if you do it."
"And I'll have a cappuccino, and I've been
told the chocolate cheesecake is un-missable." Buffy added
her order without looking at the menu.
"Better make that two. She'll get upset
if I pinch bits of hers."
The woman smiled at Buffy as if pleased by her
compliment. "Guess that date of yours has taste as well as
looks. It'll only be a couple of minutes."
"Eatin' your pudding before your main course.
What would Joyce have said?"
"Go for it, enjoy yourself, life's for living
and where's my piece?"
"Probably would, at that."
Buffy tightened her grip on his fingers before
she asked her next question. "Not to be all Freud, but before
you were turned, what was your mom like?"
Now that he was in conscious control the subject
didn't engender the primal fear it had when he was asleep. Still,
there was a brief panic as the question caught him unawares.
"Remember what you told me. No walls. No
barriers. No secrets. Not between us," Buffy cajoled gently.
Spike gave a sardonic laugh. "That was when
I thought I'd nothing to hide." He gave a shrug, acknowledging
that one way or another Buffy would find out the whole story.
"She was a nice lady. She was like Joyce
would have been if she'd been born to a society where she wasn't
expected to work and didn't have to, if her family were her entire
world... or so I thought." His voice was first sad and then
took on a bitter twist.
"Spike?" Buffy's voice was filled with
the same concern he could feel in her touch. "Let me. I think
I've got most of this thought through. Just tell me if I go off
base. Okay?"
The vampire gave a shallow nod and Buffy paused
as the waitress returned to the table with their order. "I
passed on your compliments to my husband, so he gave you both
a bigger piece than usual," she told them.
"Thanks, luv." Spike smiled at her
again.
"Hope your girlfriend likes it. There are
some days I think that's why I married him." She jerked her
head toward the kitchen door. "I used to be a size 8 until
he started feeding me." Another smile and she had returned
to her station at the cash register.
"Okay. let's see," Buffy began, her
voice low enough that only Spike could hear it. "I think
the last few months before you were turned, you were in a similar
position to where I was just over a year ago, with one slight
difference: we always had hope that mom would pull through. You
knew that your mom wouldn't. It was just a matter of time. How
'm I doing?"
Spike shrugged, his eyes slightly defensive,
but unable to argue with anything she had said.
"You told me once that when you were turned
it was like a revelation. You were strong, powerful. You never
felt better. That's what you thought you were giving her. You
loved her and you wanted her to share what you saw as a gift you'd
been given."
Spike's eyes were now fixed on the table, but
he didn't contradict her, and through their bond she could feel
his misplaced shame. "But there was a problem. You were far
more special than you think. Maybe Dru could see that, and that
was why she chose you. You see, you knew that human or vampire,
you still loved your mother. It was only natural that you expected
the same thing to happen when you turned her.
So, when what rose up turned out to be a demon
with your mother's memories but none of her emotions, and that
demon used those memories to attack you, the only way you could
make sense of it was to believe the things it said.
Spike, that thing wasn't your mother.
Your mother was a fine, loving lady who raised a son to be a good,
caring man. You were her entire world. Turning her was
a mistake, but, in your shoes, based on your own experience, I can't
say that I'd do anything different. If I had thought there was
a way to keep Mom with us, so that it really was her, I'd have
done it in a heartbeat.
You were no more at fault for what you did than
Wesley was for kidnapping Connor. It's the same thing. You did
what you thought was right."
"How can you be so sure?" the vampire's
voice was filled with doubt still.
Buffy reached across the table with her free
hand to brush her thumb across his cheek. "Because I know
all the good and all the capacity for love that's inside you,
even though some would say that it shouldn't be, and that has
to be learned. That comes from your family, from the people who
taught you how to be the man you became.
And you know it, too. I remember, back when I
was in your head, you thought that the things you loved about
me and Dawn were the things we got from Mom.
Your mother loved you. She loved you when you
were human and if she could see you here today, she would love
you still. And I think intervening years not withstanding, she'd
be proud of who you are, just like I am."
Buffy drew her hand away from his face, but only
so she could use it to steady herself as she leant across the
tabletop to brush a tender kiss against his lips. It was sweet
and sincere and it conveyed a wealth of feeling, and it didn't
take Spike long before he reciprocated everything in kind.
Over in a far corner of the room, the waitress
knocked gently on the serving hatch that led through to the kitchen,
and when she nodded in the couple's direction, her husband took
her hand, both of them seeing a younger reflection of themselves
in the blond couple who were so obviously and deeply in love.
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