Disclaimer:
I don't own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire
Slayer except for a certain bleach blonde vampire in my
very best dreams. Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN and lots
of other people own him the rest of the time, and all the
others too. I didn't write the dialogue for Buffy dumping
Spike. I couldn't make up anything that would make those
blue eyes that miserable. It's all Douglas Petrie's fault.
Author's Note: This was my first attempt
at FanFic, in fact it was the first time I'd written anything
in about fifteen years. When it was posted originally it was completely unbeta-ed, but I and t_geyer, my beta of the past four years, are going to try to touch it up a little now that some kind person has nominated it at one of the award sites... Hopefully, we'll get it finished before the judges get to it.
Thank you again to Joan
the English chick and www.studiesinwords.de for transcripts.
The site is now defunct but her transcripts are still available all over the net. I sort of regret to say that by the time I got to this chapter I had seen "As You Were"
but transcripts still helped, especially with any bits that
might vaguely refer to "Hell's Bells".
Chapter 5
Spike stood in the middle of what had once
been his home and surveyed the wreckage. The area was strewn
with rubble, and a layer of soot covered much of the room.
At first glance it appeared that none of his furniture or
possessions had survived the blast intact.
He pushed a bit of the rubble aside with
his foot and, then, realising it just wasn't going to make
the least bit of difference, he sighed and gave up.
He recognised her perfume before she got
anywhere near him and he kept his gaze on the floor, refusing
to let her see how much he was hurt. This was her cue to
tell him she was leaving him for Captain Cardboard.
"So she's back. Thought you'd be off snoggin'
with soldier boy."
"He's gone."
"So, you come for a bit of cold comfort?"
The smallest flicker of hope was there on his face as he
met her eyes, but even that wasn't enough to keep the misery
from his voice when he continued. "The bed's a bit blown
up, but then, that was never our—"
"I'm not here to—" Buffy paused. The shadows of his
face hid his eyes, but the way his head drooped, the set of his shoulders screamed that he already knew what she'd been about to say. "And I'm not here to bust your chops about
your stupid scheme, either. That's just you. I should have
remembered."
"So this is worse then, is it?" Spike asked. "This is
you telling me—"
"It's over."
"I've memorised this tune, love. Think
I have the sheet music. Doesn't change what you want." He
moved through the steps of their dance as he had so often
before, but this time he knew the ending would be different.
The confidence that normally permeated his words and gestures
was absent. The man who had told her that he may be dirt
but she liked to roll in it had been stripped of his pride.
"I know that," Buffy admitted.
He watched her face.
"I
do want you." With every phrase she seemed to gain strength.
"Being with you - makes things... simpler... for a little
while."
"I don't call five hours straight a little
while." He automatically used humour as a defence, his voice
trembling.
"I'm using you. I can't love you. I'm just...
being weak and selfish."
"Really not complaining here," he cut in, begging
for whatever crumbs she might offer.
"...And it's killing me."
His brows furrowed
and his eyes seemed even bluer and brighter, as if her pain was many times harder for him to bear than his own.
"I have to be strong about this. I'm sorry...
William."
As she turned and left what really tore
his heart out was the fact that in rejecting him she seemed to
become more whole. For the first time since she came back
from the grave she seemed content within herself. He saw
her heart and her strength... and for the first time in months she treated him like a man.
Even as she destroyed him, he fell just a little bit more
in love with her.
Spike waited until she was out of sight
to slide to the floor. He sat for several minutes, his forearms
resting on his upraised knees, his forehead resting on his
forearms. He didn't cry. He'd done all the crying he was
going to do last night. He'd known then that it was
over, at least for now. He simply sat for a few minutes until he felt
up to doing what he came here to do.
When he rose from the ground William was
gone for now. Emotion and sensitivity weren't going to help
him. He made his way to where his television set still
stood. There was no apparent damage, but he didn't bother
to check whether it worked or not. He didn't have time for
Passions today. Instead, he looked first on top of the set,
and when there was nothing there he started searching the
floor round about it. He picked a piece of card up off the
floor, checking it was what he wanted.
"Bollocks!"
he muttered under his breath, reading it for the first time, before storing
it in his pocket.
He then opened up the sarcophagus and, rummaging
below the discoloured skeleton that lay there, he pulled
out a small cash box. It occurred to him that the key was
now lost somewhere in the rubble downstairs and he cursed again
before he forcibly pulled the lid back. The folding money from the
box was quickly stuffed into his coat pocket. The photographs
that lined the bottom of the box he left inside. He closed
the lid as best he could and then replaced it back under
the human remains before he reconsidered and pulled out
one image from the box.
Refusing to allow himself to be distracted by the scents of Buffy's perfume and last night's love-making which still permeated its fabric, he grabbed the blanket from the floor,
ready to make a run for the nearest sewer entrance.
He silently berated himself for not caving
in and buying a cell-phone before now and tried to figure
out how to best get to a phone-box. Eventually, he decided
just to get to a mall as quickly as he could. He would get
a phone there and that meant he could just head straight
for the car with no detours.
His choice of shopping facilities was limited
by the fact he had to avoid anywhere with skylights or glass
atriums. Nevertheless, he thought if he used the underground
parking and stayed away from the upper floors of the shopping
centre he could get what he wanted without turning into
a charcoal briquette.
It was an hour later by the time he finally
phoned Tara. He wasn't sure if it was fortunate or not that
he got her answering machine. It did save him from having to field
any awkward questions.
"Hi Tinkerbell! It's Spike. I need a favour.
I want you to do a spell for me. Needn't worry, I haven't
taken any hostages this time.
I need you to do a protection spell. It's
probably best if you cover all the Scoobies, but especially
you and Buff and the Bit. Use the best one you can get.
If I haven't already spoken to her, tell demon-girl I'll
cover the cost of any ingredients or whatnot when I get
back, but don't tell her what they're for. She's already
got her knickers in enough of a twist with the wedding coming
up. Tell her you're doing some sort of blessing or something.
I should be around for the wedding but, if I'm not, don't
panic. Take care."
One down.
He dialled the next number and prayed it
wouldn't be Buffy who picked up the phone.
"Magic Box, for all your magical needs," Anya answered in her precisely ennunciated tones.
"Hi pet, it's Spike."
Anya interrupted again before he could get any further. "If you want to speak to Buffy she's in
back but—"
"No, pet, it was you I need to speak to.
The thing is— Well, actually, there's three things. First
of all, I told Glinda if she needed some stuff that I would
settle up with you when I see you. Is that all right?"
"Well what exactly are we talking about.
I mean is it going to be a lot?"
"I don't know, pet. She wasn't in when
I rang. I just told her to get whatever she would need,
books, ingredients, whatever. You have my word I'll square
up with you when I get back to town."
"Back? Where are you, Spike?"
"Why? Are you going to miss me? Want to
ditch Harris and come along for the ride? Can't say as I'd
complain. Always thought you were far too hot a lady to
be wasted on a bricklayer."
"Spike... It would make it easier to justify
extending you credit if you weren't insulting my fiancé."
Anya's tone suggested he got to the point.
"At the minute I'm at a phone-box in the
mall but I'm heading off soon as I see The 'Bit, which brings
me to the next thing. Do you know if your intended is picking
her up from school today?" the vampire asked. "'Cause, if he is, you can tell him
he's got the day off."
"I think he was going to get her," Anya replied.
"Well, let him know that I'll take school
bus duty. I don't want to head out of town without making
sure she knows I'm coming back, especially if she sees the
state my place is in."
"Okay..." Anya replied with a blend of scepticism and curiosity. "What happened to your place?"
"Nothing much," Spike said, downplaying the situation as much as possible. "Little farewell party. You
know what gatecrashers are like."
Anya didn't bother to contradict him, just waiting to see if any more detail might be forthcoming.
"Look, anyway, just tell your beloved that
he doesn't need to swing by the school. Last thing, have
you got the librarian's phone number? I need to speak to
him about some stuff."
"Spike, this is all very strange. What
are you up to?"
"Don't you start!" Spike told the ex-demon in no uncertain terms before he took a deep breath and continued in a less brusque tone. "Just because I've got
things to do doesn't mean I've got some evil plan afoot, you know. There's some loose ends from back when I was with Dru.
I've got to get them sorted out and that's as much as I'm
going to tell you."
"Fine," Anya snapped right back. "It's Bath 373 4624, but why I'm
telling you, I don't know."
"Sorry, pet, that's as much as I can tell
you. Anyway, us ex-'Big Bads' have to stick together. I'll
see you Saturday. Don't think I'll miss a chance to claim
a snog from the bride."
"I have to go, anyway," Anya answered distractedly. "There's a real customer
here. One who pays for the goods when they get them."
Spike smiled quietly to himself, unsure if she was being completely serious or making a joke at his expense.
Two down.
Eight hours ahead, so half past two in
the afternoon means half past ten at night there.
"Bath 373 4624."
"Giles?" Spike dropped his normal accent,
speaking instead in the more cultured tones he'd used in
his youth.
"Yes, who's calling?"
It suddenly occurred to Spike that, if his
suspicions were correct, then there was every chance that
Giles' phone could be tapped.
"It's Randy." He hoped Giles would realise
what he was up to. "I was just ringing to say that I've
got those things for you. I was going to FedEx them down to you but,
with your duties, I realised that you wouldn't be at home to sign for
any packages, so I thought it might be more convenient for you to pick them
up from one of their depots... if you could be so kind as to tell me
which one would be most convenient."
"R-randy," Giles stammered slightly, obviously caught off his guard. "Right... There's one in Bath city
centre, I b-believe... Ehm." Spike imagined Giles cleaning
his glasses. "H-how is everyone up there? All okay?"
"Everyone's fine... as far as I'm aware," Spike qualified.
"Well, Rupert I really must go. I don't want to keep you from
your cocoa. If I get down south any time soon I'll treat
you to afternoon tea at the Ritz."
Spike had to go back to the mall again
to buy some stationery to send his message to Giles. He
explained his suspicions and asked the watcher to check up on a
couple of things. He gave him the number for his newly purchased cell phone. He
not only enclosed a second cell phone with a generous amount of prepaid
credit in the package, but he also included the number
for the phone he was going to leave with Dawn and instructions
on where in the crypt to find another cash box, larger than
the one he'd raided this morning. This one contained some
money, as well as details of several numbered Swiss bank accounts. By tomorrow,
Giles would have the passwords which, when coupled with the information in the box, would allow him access to all Spike's savings. Once both the letter and box containing the phone and its accessories had been sealed inside a padded envelope,
Spike took it straight to the FedEx office, hoping to get a reply from Giles as soon as possible.
It had occurred to Spike that, had Buffy
not been at his crypt the previous night, the odds were better than even
he wouldn't be here now. If the kid had just found Spike
with the eggs and no witnesses he'd have had no compunction about taking out an opponent who couldn't fight back... this time using a wooden stake. Someone had set
him up and they were very possibly playing for keeps. Worse still, he
was going to have to wait at least another eight or nine
hours before he could even try to find out who it was.
He headed back to the crypt to pack.
He
was pleasantly surprised to discover that the drawers had at least partially
withstood the blast, protecting some of his clothing.
He found the particular item he was looking for and got
changed. The rest of his surviving clothes he pushed into a duffle
bag and, lastly, he picked up his duster, folding it over one
arm. He felt almost incomplete as he ran back to the car
without it billowing behind him, his shoulders far too light
without its weight on them, but that was the point, wasn't
it?
He pulled up outside the school with ten
minutes to spare, making sure to park so that he could open
the passenger door without any sunlight hitting his side
of the interior. When he saw Dawn approaching the parking
lot, he pressed repeatedly on the car horn and flung open the passenger
door. Dawn rolled her eyes before coming over and throwing
herself into the car.
"Jeez, and who taught you manners? Does
every girl you meet just come running when you honk?"
"That would be my mother, but they didn't
stick. And no..." His voice softened."...Not all of them. I
figured you'd make allowances for me not getting out to
open the door for you due to my inherent combustibility...
that and the last time I tried to open a door for your sister
I got a mouthful of abuse."
He waited while a few of the cars pulled
out and then swerved quickly into a gap which appeared.
Dawn gripped the door handle to avoid sliding along the
bench seat.
"Not that I'm not grateful, but I doubt
you got the monster out of mothballs just to pick me up
from school, so what gives?"
Spike decided that this was a good time
to concentrate on the road, but even staring fixedly ahead
he was aware of Dawn's glare.
"I'm coming back, Bit," he told her in an attempt to ward
off potential misunderstandings. "I'm getting out of town
for a while but I wanted to say goodbye and I wanted to give
you something to look after till I come back." Spike kept
darting glances at Dawn's face as he spoke, trying to gauge
her reaction. "I don't know how long I'm going to be gone.
I might have to make a couple of trips." He pulled over
to the side of the road so that he could give her his full
attention.
Dawn's expression hovered somewhere between pissed off
and deeply hurt. Tears began to well up in her eyes. "You're just like all the rest," she accused. "Why should
I care if you go? It's not as if you care. You don't even come
round any more... or, at least, you don't come in. You hang around
in the yard, chain smoking, to catch a glimpse of Buffy, but
you can't come in and actually see me. Do you think I don't
know where the heaps of cigarette butts come from? I'm not
an idiot. Four and a half months she was dead and you were
all Big Brother. Have to go to school. That's what Buffy
would want. Have to do this. That's what Buffy would want,
but you never gave a damn about me, did you? You just pretended
you cared because that's what Buffy would want. The second
she came back, you just stopped pretending. So, you tell
me, why should I care if you leave?"
Spike was dumbstruck by her outburst. 'Bitty
Buffy indeed,' he thought. 'If something hurts lash
out.'
She tugged at the door handle and had
her door half way open before Spike could make a grab for
her wrist.
"Ow! Let go, you peroxide freak, or I'll
scream!"
He reduced the pressure on her arm but
didn't let her go. Pulling her along the seat towards
him and away from the sunlight coming through the open door until she was close enough, he drew her into a hug,
one hand cradling her head. Then the tears came and, just
like when she'd lost Buffy, he didn't try to calm her or
quiet her. He let her cry as long as she wanted. He just
held her and talked quietly to her.
"You're right, love. I deserved that... or
most of it at any rate. I do love you, Niblet. I'm in love
with your sister, but I love you and I loved your mum. There
isn't a Summers woman that I can resist. I'm pathetic. One
look from any of you and I'm mush.
I don't want to leave but there's
things I have to do. I'm really sorry that it has to be
now. I know I haven't been around so much but things are
sort of complicated with me and your sister. Imagine there
was some guy that really liked you, but you thought he was
an irritating wanker, and every time you come in from school,
there he is sitting on the couch watching TV with Buffy.
You wouldn't be too happy."
Dawn sniffled and gave a half smile. "I
think you're an irritating wanker sometimes, but I like
you just the same."
"Yeah, well, your sister only ever got a
hang of the first bit, so when it comes to her home, I try
not to overstep the boundaries too much. She kind of made
it plain that I should have an invite before I come round...
and, before you say anything, she's got a perfect right to
expect peace in her own house."
"But I want to see you."
"And that's why when I'm back I'll try
to work something out with Big Sis, where you come to visit
me... But it'll have to wait till I get back."
"How do I know you're coming back?" Dawn demanded. "Maybe
once you get to where you're going you'll decide to stay,
or you'll meet someone who doesn't think you're an irritating
wanker."
"Well, as far as the places are concerned, been there,
there and there: done that, that and that: got all the T-shirts.
As to the other, fat chance, but, if it were to happen, I'd
just have to bring them here."
"Yeah, right, so you're going to meet some
other woman and bring her here to wave her under Buffy's
nose?"
"Think it'd work?" He sat back and flashed
Dawn his patented smirk.
"We're talking Buffy here, she'd probably
throw you a parade, so long as you don't chain up the new
one and threaten to kill Buffy for her. The girl has no
taste."
"Thanks, and being reminded of my stupidest
mistakes always makes me feel better... but seriously, you'll
know I'm coming back, one, because I promised Buffy I'd look
after you and that promise was given until the end of time, two, when I was talking to your mum last night—" Spike noticed
the bemused expression on Dawn's face. "What? She never
minded listening to me before. I don't figure she minds
now. She doesn't give me any advice any more, but, hey... Can't
have everything. Try it sometime... in daylight.
Anyway, I promised your mum I'd make sure
I spent some time with you on a regular basis and, three, I'm
going to have to come back because you're going to be looking
after my duster." He pulled it from the back seat and deposited
it on her lap.
"Four, if you check the left pocket you'll
find a cell phone, and using that you can ring this cell phone."
He indicated a cell-phone currently connected to the car's
lighter socket. "If you need me, you call, and wherever
I am, whatever I am doing, I will drop it and I will come
straight back. Have you got that?"
"Got it!" She grinned and started experimenting
with the buttons without success.
"Right, the instructions and the charger
and the number for this one's in the box in the glove compartment,
help yourself. It's supposed to charge for about ten hours
before you can use it the first time. There's quite a bit
of credit on there already, but there's a chance I'll be
overseas some of the time if I can swing it, so don't use
all the credit sending messages to Janice. If you do need
to phone me it might cost a bomb, which is why you use that
and not the phone at home."
He produced a cloth handkerchief from his
jacket and proceeded to wipe the last few tears from her
face.
"I reckon this is going to cost me a couple
of ice-creams now 'cause, if I take you back with red eyes,
Big Sis will leave the Big Bad black and blue. You have
to stand in the queue though. Now shut the door."
Some time later, as they both sat in the car finishing their
ice creams, Spike asked, "So are we good?"
"We are officially of the good."
"Okay." He smiled a slightly rueful smile. "Time to take you home then." He
turned the car in the direction of Revello Drive.
"Spike, what about the wedding?"
Spike gave a shrug. "Honestly, pet, it depends on how fast
I can get hold of the paperwork I'm going to need to get
on a plane for Europe. If it turns out I'd be hanging around
waiting while someone knocks it all together then I'll be
there. If I'm still trying to find someone who can do it
or if I get it and can make a start on sorting stuff out,
then no. Look, I'll send you a message every day saying
where I am.
Now, do me a favour when you get in, and
phone grand-papa and give him a reason not to stake me on
sight when I get to LA. I don't think having him tortured
made me very popular the last time I was in town."
Dawn grinned. "You do know how to win friends and influence
people, don't you?"
"You tell me," Spike retorted. "You're the closest thing
to a friend I've got."
The car pulled up at the kerb outside Dawn's
house. To Spike's surprise Dawn kissed him on the cheek
before scrambling out of the car, clutching the box of phone
accessories and his duster. She bent down to get in a final
word. "By the way, Spike, the new jacket's pretty
cool, but it's not a patch on this."
He smirked back at her. "I know, love.
Wouldn't be much point leaving it otherwise." As he recalled from the one time he'd worn it before,
her sister hadn't liked the new one much either.
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