Disclaimer:
Buffy: What on earth are you
doing here? The sun's going to be up in half an hour.
Spike: Yeah. Since when did
you become the walking almanac, goldilocks?
Buffy: Goldilocks? You know
I hate that name. Last time you called me that I cut all my hair. What
are you up to?
Spike: I just got the latest
forecasts. I'm not doing it, any of it.
Buffy: So you're just going
to sit here and wait for the sun to come up?
Spike: I do believe I might.
Given the choice between dust and the world according to Mr Joss Whedon
and his friends at Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox and whoever else has dibs on
us, I'll take dust.
Buffy: What's so bad? I didn't
think you'd run out on me.
Spike: Yeah, well, the evil
scriptwriters have me doing just that, but not before I really screw up.
All sorts of stuff happening to everybody and I can't help because I run
off. Way I see it, best if I'm gone before I do the worst of what they're
going to have me do. At least this way you might not hate me when I'm
gone.
Buffy: But what if we need
you later, maybe you come back and you help. Maybe we work things out.
None of that'll happen if you're dust.
Spike: And none of it's going
to happen if I turn into some snivelling twerp either.
Buffy: Ah-ha. Now we're getting
somewhere. Why would you turn into a snivelling twerp?
Spike: None of your business.
Buffy: Talk, Bleach Boy!
(Buffy lands a punch on his nose)
Spike: Ow. Can't you at least
let me die pretty? Ow. Leave o— Ow. Slay— Ow. Soul.
Buffy: (Shrieks with joy) You
get a so-ul. You get a so-ul. (To the tune of na na na na na).
Spike: Not if I stay here and
wait for the sunrise I don't. So there. Not going to be Angel Mk. II.
So bog off, Barbie, and leave me in peace.
Buffy: In that case you better
get inside all on your own, 'cos if I'm not mistaken that cloud bank is
headed this way. I'll bet it's those pesky writers about to make it snow
again. Just like they did when Angel waited to see the sun rise. I suppose
at least it isn't Christmas.
(Spike looks up at the cloudbank,
which seems to be moving directly toward their location. For a second
his mouth hangs open unable to believe that fate could treat him this
way. Then he stomps off muttering under his breath)
Spike: Bloody slayer! Bloody
storm clouds! Bloody soul! Bloody Great Poof! Bloody William! Bloody wishes!
Give her what she deserves.
Disclaimer2: Okay, I did it
again last chapter, I forgot to say that I didn't write Eloise. The most
common version available is by the Damned (who I have tickets to see at
the end of the month. Yea, me) but they didn't write it. It was written
by someone with the surname Ryan (or so it says on the CD) Something makes
me think his first name was Barry, but I could be totally wrong. The lyrics
for "Summertime" were written by Ira Gershwin and Du Bose Heyward. (Music
by George Gershwin.)
A/N: This is definitely going
to be the last chapter before the epilogue. I don't care how long it has
to be. You are warned.
Chapter 23
"Hey, pet, thought I'd better check you got the money
I left you before I took off."
Spike looked Anya up and down, looking for telltale signs
as to how she was feeling. Her hair, clothes and make-up were all perfect.
Whatever was going on with her and Harris, she wasn't letting it affect
her professionalism. As soon as she saw who her visitor was, however,
she dropped the fake smile, and her utter misery was plain for all to
see.
"Hi, Spike, I got it. I might even owe you some change
if it wasn't for all the burba weed that goes missing out of the basement."
Spike gave her a half smile and a shrug. "Not like I
was looking for any." Spike looked around the shop. It was deserted except
for the two of them. "Fancy shuttin' up shop for an hour or two and grabbin'
some lunch?" Spike put down the brown paper sack he'd been carrying in
one arm. "I've got some sarnies, some salad in case you'd rather, couple
of apples, some chocolatey goodness and a few beers."
He pulled out a six-pack of beer and then tipped the
rest of the sack's contents on the counter. Anya looked around the deserted
shop. "Okay, I'll shut up for a while, but I've got to be open again by
the time the college lunch hour starts. What do you want Spike? You've
never done anything like this before, so there's got to be a reason."
"Okay, cards on the table. I heard the whelp was making
an ass of himself and I wanted to see how you were." Spike opened one
of the cans of beer and pulled a chicken tikka sandwich from the pile
of food, before finding a clear area of counter to sit on. "So how are
you, pet?"
Anya shrugged, "Either totally miserable or mad as hell,
I guess you could say I'm experiencing mood swings." Anya took a bite
from one of the apples and moved over to lock the shop door and put up
the closed sign.
"I'm kind of surprised that one of your mates hasn't
popped in and granted you a wish or two."
"They might have done, but at first I wanted to do it
myself." Spike's eyes narrowed, noticing for the first time the thin chain
that disappeared under Anya's blouse. "But Buffy and everybody kept saying
how sorry they felt for him and what a bad way he was in. They're all
"Poor Xander". None of them care that whatever he's going through he caused
himself. They don't care that it was him that hurt me. They all love him.
Maybe they liked me, but they love him, and he was my best friend and
now they're all his friends and I don't have anyone at all and I don't
have anywhere to live, just a crummy motel room and a tv that doesn't
even get cable."
Spike moved to hold the not-so-former vengeance demon
in his arms as she hovered on the brink of tears, gently rubbing her back
in soothing circles.
"Hey, I'd take you over the git any day of the week.
As soon as I work out what I'm doing about someplace to stay you're welcome
any time; and for just now you can visit my crummy motel room at the beach
with cable."
"You're not moving back into the crypt?"
"Haven't decided yet. If things go okay with Buffy, then
I might want somewhere with a room for Dawn, somewhere I can cook and
proper plumbing so they can stay the night without keeping their legs
crossed. What about you? How come you haven't found anywhere permanent?"
"Probably because then I admit it is permanent."
She sighed and Spike gave her a quick squeeze.
"So, if the stupid git turned up here today with a fast
car outside to take you to some wedding chapel in Vegas, you'd go?"
"Probably."
"You love him enough to forgive him everything he's put
you through."
"If he was willing to marry me. but he isn't. He says
he wants everything just to go back to what it was like before we got
engaged."
Spike snorted in disgust. "Can't even see that relationships
are about moving forward, can he? Doesn't realise that if he can't follow
through on the promises he's made that you can't trust anything he's said
about how he feels. He's just a stupid kid, pet. He's too ignorant to
know any better." Spike stroked Anya's hair as she cried quietly on his
shoulder.
"Does he know you've got your powers back?"
Anya's eyes moved to Spike's face so that he could see
how her tears pooled up before spilling over her lower lashes. "None of
them know. They wouldn't understand."
"Probably not, but there's a chance they might surprise
you .But, say the whelp knew, by some miracle he was okay about it and
he was ready to do the decent thing, you would have him back."
"Yeah."
"What about if he asked you to give your powers up?"
The shop echoed with the slight creaks and small rasping
noises that Spike's clothing made as he continued his stroking motions,
his hand having moved once more to Anya's back. Finally Anya spoke.
"I don't know. If someone had asked me that morning if
I'd rather be with him or have my powers back, I would have chosen him.
Now, even if we try to fix things, it'll never be the same. Keeping my
powers is kind of like having a safety net. I don't know that I could
trust him enough to get rid of them."
"Are you back on active duty, so to speak?"
"Well, I haven't answered anyone's wishes yet, but it's
just a matter of time. You can't take the power without the responsibility?"
"And Xander's probably too blind to see that what you
do isn't evil. The evil, if there is any, is in the wish. I mean, I could
wish that he would see what his life's going to be like if he doesn't
get you back. If I did and you granted it, there wouldn't be any evil
in it." Spike carefully watched Anya's face for any indication that she
might actually want him to make a wish of this kind. ".Any more than it
would be your fault if I wished some exquisite form of eternal torture
on him."
"No. He says demons are all evil and can't be trusted."
"He never really grasped the fact that you didn't have
some massive personality transplant when you became human, did he? You
just lost your powers. It didn't make you a better person all of a sudden.
If you have changed it's because of what you feel for him. Whether you
have your powers back and whether I've got rid of the chip, we're the
same people we were before and don't let him tell you any different.
Human or demon, you're beautiful and brave. You tell
things like they are, unlike those three. They spend so much time in denial
about one thing or another they should have season tickets to Egypt. And
you're way stronger than he is. Even if he is the one getting all the
support, you're the one who's holding together, while he's doing a fair
job of alienating everybody around him. You're good people, pet. If he's
too blind to see it, that's his problem."
Spike fumbled in his pocket before pulling out a crumpled
handkerchief, using it to wipe away the last of her tears. "It's okay,
kitten, it's clean. I'm just not much for ironing anything I don't have
to."
"I can't imagine you ironing anything, not after that
time you shrunk all your clothes."
"Okay, I admit it. I've got the woman that owns the launderette
convinced I'm so helpless she washes and dries them for me, but she draws
the line at ironing. Now, get some lunch inside you before it's time to
open up again, unless you've decided you'd rather play hookey for the
day, in which case I'll take you to meet a friend I've got visiting from
LA."
Buffy and Dawn arrived at Spike's motel just after half
past six with a takeaway bag full of assorted doublemeat products. They
knocked on the door to room six, only to have Spike stuck his newly bleached
and coifed head out of room seven.
"Over here, ladies."
"Dawn said you were in room six."
"And unless you mean in the literal sense." Spike paused
to greet Buffy with a welcoming kiss. ". I am, but I said there was someone
I wanted you to meet and he's in this one.
Lorne, this is Buffy and her sister Dawn. Buffy, Dawn,
this is Lorne. He's the one who looked after me when I was gibbering like
a loon, so he got to write you lots of letters."
Buffy and Dawn looked over to the bed where Anya sat
next to a large green demon, dressed in a bright red suit that matched
his horns, his eyes and his lips. Dawn reckoned she could see enough of
his roots to know she was the only person in the room who wasn't a bottle
blonde.
"Lorne has a gift. He can read people's auras, look into
their souls. He uses it to set people on their path. I'll let him tell
you the catch, and then you can work out whether you want people around
for moral support or whether you'd rather do things in private. First
though I think it's time for a drink."
"Nice to meet you, ladies. There must be something about
all the Hellmouth beasties that means all the Sunnydale women are exceptionally
lovely to balance things out."
Spike went to the fridge and passed Dawn a soda. He picked
up a beer and a soda miming to Buffy she should choose, before passing
her the beer, returning the soda to the fridge and pulling out another
beer for himself. Then he mixed up what looked like fruit juices and vodka
to get something that came out a sort of raspberry colour and passed one
each to Anya and the demon that Buffy had mentally labelled "the jolly
green giant".
Lorne made a slight face when he tasted his and Spike
responded defensively. "I'll find a juicer tomorrow. For tonight you'll
just have to make do. It says on the carton it's freshly squeezed. It's
as good as you're going to get for now."
"That doesn't mean I can't tell the difference, William."
"Believe me, it's better than you'd get in Willy's or
Dave's, Krevlorne-Swoth."
"Are you okay, Anya?" Buffy asked. "We were a bit worried
when you disappeared the other night."
"I feel better than I have in quite a while, actually.
Lorne did me a reading. It sort of cheered me up a bit." She smiled over
at the demon in a way that suggested that she was slightly drunk.
Buffy looked over at Spike, who shrugged to show his
ignorance.
"So, how did you come to know Spike, then?" Dawn asked.
"Well, while Angel-cakes and the rest went out looking
for the stuff he needed, William here helped—"
Lorne was interrupted by some hasty coughing on Spike's
part.
"Spike helped out in the office."
"So, you work with Angel then?" asked Dawn.
"Well, until the renovations are finished on my bar,
I'm staying at Angel's hotel. Then I go back to what I do best."
"Which is?"
"I run a karaoke bar."
"Right." Dawn rolled her eyes.
"You haven't heard the funniest bit of news yet," said
Anya. "You know how Cordelia gets visions from the PTB." Some of the people
in the room looked blank but others appeared to know what she was talking
about. "Well, it's not supposed to be a human gift and to make her strong
enough to withstand them she's taken on the aspect of a demon. That means
Xander really is a demon magnet. He's never had a girlfriend who hasn't
been at least part demon or undead at some point."
Spike looked over at Buffy and raised an eyebrow. "This
is the same guy that can't cope with the idea of the two of us."
"Anya was the only one he knew was a demon, except she
wasn't when she asked him out," countered Buffy.
". And the fact that Anya asked him, and his alternative
prom date was the sock puppet of love had no effect whatsoever on his
decision," added Dawn. "You so could have done better."
"Wait a minute." Spike re-entered the discussion. "What
about Red? Wasn't I .told, him and the Wicca were an item at one point."
Spike had been going to comment on him getting the blame for Cordelia's
impalement but swiftly changed his mind when he remembered the conversation
of the previous night. He wasn't going to invite another lecture for something
else that happened years ago.
"Well," Anya rebutted, "officially they were never going
out. They were just having illicit foreplay while Xander was going out
with Cordelia and Willow was seeing Oz."
Lorne processed all this. "So the guy that just broke
up with you, used to be seeing Cordy, but he two timed her to go out with
a witch."
"Got it in one, big guy," Spike confirmed.
"Well, I know I haven't met the witch, but someone who
would cheat on Cordy and then leave a lovely young hottie like this at
the altar must be a serious loser."
The slayer glared at a smirking Spike. "I never said
a word. He came to that conclusion all by himself. Hey, Lorne maybe now
would be a good time to do Bit's reading, before I get in any more trouble?"
"Okay, what was the bit Spike wasn't saying about the
reading?" asked Dawn.
Before Lorne could reply Anya answered. "You have to
sing. I sang Bohemian Rhapsody but I couldn't quite manage all the different
parts at once, but Lorne said it was close enough."
"So, if I sing you can tell whether I've got a soul."
"That's the way it goes, munchkin."
"And we can either do it with just you and me, or I can
have whoever I want with me."
"That's right." Dawn seemed to ponder this for some time.
"Buffy and Spike are pretty much family, so I want them
here, but that only leaves Anya and whatever we find out she'll find out
anyway, so I might as well just do it with everyone here."
"Well, princess, why don't you have a look through the
tapes in the box there, and see if there's anything you fancy singing
along to."
Dawn skimmed through the tapes discarding most of them
immediately until her hand stopped on one. "Mum used to sing that one
to me when I couldn't sleep."
"Looks like your mother had good taste then, sweet thing."
Lorne took the tape from her and put it into the tape deck he had sitting
on the bedside cabinet. "If you forget any of the words, honey, just hum.
It'll still work."
The slow lazy saxophone notes spilled out into the room
and Dawn's voice was probably too high to really do the song justice,
but somehow the end result still sounded pretty good.
"Summertime, and the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin' and the cotton is high
Oh! Your Daddy's rich and your Ma is good lookin'
So, hush little baby, don't you cry."
The song obviously brought back memories for the two
Summers girls and both looked vaguely teary by the time Dawn finished.
At the end of the song Buffy moved up and put her arms around her sister,
lending support as she waited for Lorne's assessment.
"Well, pint-size, that was just beautiful," he commended.
"I don't think she cares what you think about her singing
voice. Just tell her the news."
"No need to get impatient, William. Well, pet, there's
no need to worry. You can't sing a song like that without a soul, and
yours is right where it should be, and a very nice one it is too. Just
keep those sticky fingers away from what they're not meant to have and
try to look at things from your sister's point of view before you go off
the deep end with her."
"B-but how? Are you saying the monks made me a soul?
Is that possible?"
"Honey, the only ones who can make a soul are the Powers
That Be and keeping up with the population growth is hard enough, but
most of you humans are already using second-hand ones, anyway. Now, is
it that there are more human religions that believe in reincarnation than
not, or is it that more people believe in religions that involve reincarnation
than not? Either way, they've got it right. From what Willie here told
me about the background, my guess would be that one of the monks involved
in the spell volunteered to transfer his soul when the spell was cast,
knowing he was about to die anyway."
"So you're saying I've got a monk-y soul."
"Sure, sweetie. You could say that, but I might phrase
it differently myself, just to avoid misunderstandings."
"Then why aren't I all pure and whatever."
"Because the way you are is conditioned by your experiences,
by your memories. Having a soul that once belonged to a monk doesn't mean
you'll end up in a convent. The last owner of your soul was brought up
in a different era, in a different place, with a different family and
a different lifestyle. Who or what he was doesn't determine what you'll
be or do. you do."
"So I've got a perfectly normal soul."
"That's what I've been saying."
Dawn launched herself across the room at the telepathic
demon, throwing her arms round his neck. Buffy caught the eye of the vampire
sitting on the table a few feet away with a smug grin on his face and
mouthed the words, 'Thank You'. Dawn, having spent enough time hugging
Lorne moved on temporarily to the other occupants of the room, finishing
with Spike.
"Now that we've got the soul business sorted out, didn't
you mention presents?"
Spike peeked out the window. He had chosen rooms that
faced north, which meant even though it was still an hour or so before
dusk they didn't need the curtains shut in the rooms. Also there was a
patch of shade he could comfortably use to make his way to his own room
without using a blanket.
Putting on his best lech voice, he said, "come with me,
little girl." And taking her hand he led her off to his own room. Leaving
the door open he found the carrier bags with the stuff he'd bought her.
The room still smelled faintly of bleach and Dawn wrinkled her nose at
the acrid odour. "I know, it pongs a bit, but I figured I might as well
take advantage of Anya offering to tidy me up. I'll go back next door
and let you try this stuff on. Your sister's probably going to accuse
me of corrupting you, but what the hell."
He headed back through to Lorne's room, settling on the
floor next to the slayer before putting an arm round her shoulder.
"What have you done with my little sister?"
"Well, when I left her in my room she was just about
to get undressed." He gave her a grin. "Should I go check how she's getting
on?"
"No, you won't." She landed a gentle punch on his chest.
"You'll wait here and pretend you're a gentleman." However five minutes
later there was some thumping on the adjoining wall followed by a request
for Spike's presence. As he left the room, Clem was arriving.
"Hi, mate. Just about everybody's in Lorne's room. You
know Anya and Buffy. Clem, this is Lorne. Lorne, Clem. I'll be back in
a minute." As he moved from one room to the other he lit a cigarette,
drawing deeply on it. He knocked on the door and waited for Dawn to open
it before going in.
"There's something wonky with these laces."
Spike looked down, and sure enough each boot had one
lace with about two inches sticking out and the other with about three
feet.
"Alright, pet, we'd better start from scratch, sit on
the bed." He was still re-lacing the first boot when Buffy came through.
She gave a smile that was dangerously close to a smirk
when she saw the scene in front of her. "What have you done with my little
sister?"
"Nothing. Do you think I should?" the vampire replied.
"Are you two never going to grow up?" asked the youngest
or oldest person in the room depending on your viewpoint.
"We've decided that there are too many of us for one
motel room, so since Clem and Lorne can't really go to the Bronze, you've
been nominated to drive everybody over to our house. When you've finished
reconstructing my sister's footwear that is." Buffy shook her head as
she left the room. "Oh and you also get to pay for pizza and drinks for
everybody, and yes, we've got a juicer for whatever it is your friend
is drinking."
Dawn laughed. "You are so whipped."
"And this is supposed to be news, coming from the person
who has me kneeling on the floor doing up her boots."
Finally, after a stop at a seven eleven, the group, including
as Lorne described her "the punk princess" made it back to the Summers
house. Buffy made a few phone calls, to Giles and Tara to say there was
no more need for research and to the pizza company. Spike got sent out
again to pick Tara up, and by the time they got back the impromptu party
was in full swing. Spike looked at the number of people in the room drinking
seabreezes and decided that they probably had too much beer and not enough
grapefruits. Even the Bit had one, hopefully minus the vodka.
Somehow the conversation had got onto the topic of old-time
dancing, and how dancing now, just wasn't the same.
"I bet Spike knows how to tango," commented Anya.
"You bet right, kitten. You can waltz with someone all
night and get nowhere, but if you can do a proper tango, then you're almost
guaranteed to get their knickers off. Come to think of it a rumba comes
in a close second."
"Pig."
"Anya, pet, you were around at the time..." Spike took
off his shirt leaving the black T-shirt beneath. He pulled a rose from
the vase on the coffee table and bowed presenting it to the vengeance
demon, taking her hand and leading her to the clear space in the centre
of the floor. "Care to show them how it's done. Lorne be a love and turn
that music off and give us a beat."
The pair put on an exhibition for the room, flirtingly
transferring the rose from Anya's mouth to Spike's and giving a full complement
of dips. They finished with Anya almost horizontal, her back arched, neck
exposed, rose between her teeth and Spike leaning over her with his back
to the door, which was of course the point where Xander and Willow walked
in.
Willow froze on the spot her mouth forming a perfect
'O'. Xander almost walked into the back of her, before he realised what
had caused her to stall. With a snarl that would have done a werewolf
credit, he threw himself at the vampire, who instead of trying to defend
himself lowered Anya gently to the floor. Buffy's warning cry came too
late and there were too many bodies between her and the fight for her
to get through.
As he was already off-centre Xander's double-handed fist
to his spine, drove him to his knees, and he stayed there until Lorne
pulled Anya away from the area of the fight, while the demon's ex-fiancé
rained blows on his back and kidneys. Spike could smell the alcohol on
Xander's breath, and while he knew he was none too sober himself, he was
sure the carpenter had had more than a few. Once he was sure Anya was
clear he brought an elbow sharply backwards and as luck would have it,
he connected with Xander's right eye. The brunette reared backwards in
surprise and this gave Spike space to stand up. Xander tried to move in
again, swinging punches left and right which Spike dodged easily before
catching his opponent in the stomach with a side kick that sent him back
towards the still open front door.
"I think we should take this outside, don't you? Buffy
has enough bills to pay without us busting up the furniture." A punch
on the nose, which Spike was more used to receiving than giving, was enough
to push the taller man back through the doorway and onto the porch. A
flying kick then knocked him onto his butt at the bottom of the steps.
Spike walked down the steps and held his hand out toward
the prone figure. Xander looked at it in distaste and scuttled backward
before standing under his own steam.
"If that's the way you want to play it, mate, so be it."
Having cleared the house, Spike was happy to let the
fight become to all intents and purposes a bare-knuckle boxing match.
Xander would swing at the vampire, who would dodge most of his clumsy
drink-fuddled attacks. The blonde would then counter with his own lightning-fast
feints and strikes, making contact with almost every true shot. As they
fought, the two men traded insults.
"What the hell do you think you're playing at? Do you
really think there would be anything going on in the middle of a room
full of people?"
"What about at the shop?"
"What about at the bloody shop?"
"You were together and she put the closed sign up. I
saw you through the window."
"So. I gave her a hug and a shoulder to cry on. After
what you did to her you gutless bastard somebody needed to, and everybody
else was too busy looking after your precious arse."
"You'd no right."
"No, you stupid tosser, you're the one who's got no rights.
You walked away and left her on her own. You haven't got the balls to
live up to the promise you made to her, but that's probably just as well,
because you never really understood who she is. And if you didn't even
understand her, then how the hell could you ever think you loved her."
"I do love her."
"Not if it's not enough to marry her. Not if you can
think for one second that she is or was evil."
Everyone from the party was out on the front porch and
Clem was hugging Anya while Lorne had an arm around her shoulders. Buffy
knew that Spike had to be pulling his blows or her high-school friend
would have been unconscious after the first few hits. Even so, she didn't
want to think what Xander's face and ribs were going to look like in the
morning.
"I didn't say she was evil. Said you were evil."
"Not what I heard, but I'll tell you one thing, I might
be evil, but I'm still a better man than you. If you don't get your act
together sharpish, you're one drunken one-night stand away from being
your father. Married to someone you don't love, with a kid you don't want,
getting' drunk every chance you get to forget about it and like as not,
beating hell out of the pair of them."
Spike landed an uppercut on Xander's jaw, which for once
he didn't pull, and watched the other man collapse like a heap of soggy
laundry.
Spike's eyes darted back and forward between Buffy and
Anya, unsure if he should be apologising to either, both or neither of
them. Anya seemed to have enough in the way of consolation and Buffy was
coming toward him.
"Sorry, love."
"What for?"
"Spoilin' the party?"
"Didn't think you'd be sorry for half-killing Xander."
"I'd be lying if I said I was. In my book he deserves
worse than he got for what he did to demon-bint. The fact I hate his guts
just made it a bit more fun."
"Do me a favour and take him upstairs and put him in
my bed and when you come back down I'll put some ice on your knuckles."
"So, I'm not in trouble then."
"No." She kissed him on the mouth, moaning slightly as
he pressed back against her. "Not yet anyway."
When he came back downstairs he went over to check on
Anya. "I'm sorry if I said anything to upset you, pet."
"You didn't say anything that wasn't true."
"I'm still sorry if I put my foot in it. I wouldn't hurt
you any worse than he already has for anything."
"There's no way you could, it's fine." Lorne shooed him
away towards Buffy who was sitting on the coffee table holding a bowl
of ice and a tea towel. Taking the vacant space on the sofa Spike held
out his hands to her knuckles uppermost.
"Is it just me or are you getting a sense of déja-vu?"
Buffy asked.
"It must be just you, by the time there were this many
people around I'd left."
"You. you know, whoever's here, whatever's happening,
you don't have to leave unless you want to." |
