CHAPTER NINE


A/N: I've taken ages to update again, sorry! I've been busy and we'll be even more so for the next week or so (I'm getting married!!) so I don't know when the next update will be. I promise I'm not giving up on this story though. Even married women have time for Spike ;-)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


It was just like any other day at the Magic Box. Everyone was sitting around, chatting, flicking through magazines and, in the case of Xander and Anya, squabbling. They had repeated this scene a hundred, maybe even a thousand, times. But she felt wrong, out of place. Here she sat, hiding not one but two quite devastating secrets. Secrets she could not tell her closest friends; could not tell her sister. The only person she could turn to was a vampire.

There was something about Spike that drew her to him now, persuaded her to confide in him – and if she thought about it, it all stemmed from the night he had helped pull her from her grave. Something had changed that night, even though she had been unaware of anything at the time. She had recognised Spike, deep down in her foggy memory, and she had trusted him implicitly. She still did. She had been unable to hide the truth from him, had been unable to keep herself together in his presence. So now he knew. And somehow, once again, she trusted Spike not to share her secrets with the people it would harm most.



She drew herself out of her daze and got to her feet.

“I guess I should get patrolling.”

“Are you alright, Buffy?” Giles asked, “You’ve seemed a little out of things this afternoon.”

“I’m fine,” she reassured him, “Just need to go work out some issues on some demons.”

“Well, be careful.”

She gave a crooked smile, knowing that she needed to heed his advice more than ever now, and turned to leave.

“Bye guys,” she called to Xander and Anya, sharing a smile with Willow as they waved goodbye – whilst still continuing to squabble.

“See you later,” she called to the two witches and left the shop, the bell jingling as the door shut behind her.

“Evenin’.”

She jumped as Spike stepped out of the shadows to her right and glowered at him.

“You scared me!”

“Sorry, love.”

She smiled, shook her head, and fell into step beside him. They walked along some way in silence before she spoke up.

“So, how long were you waiting outside for me?”

“Since sunset,” he answered with a casual shrug.

“You really don’t have to.”

“Told you I would keep you safe,” he said softly, avoiding her eyes, “Can’t very well do that from the comfort of my chair, can I?”

She gave a little laugh of disbelief and they carried on into the town. She would never admit it out loud, but she felt better now that he was at her side.



They strolled through the third graveyard on their route so far and she did not know whether to lament or rejoice at how quiet this night had been. She almost dreaded facing a vampire with this new knowledge: she could lose. She could be killed. She had never let those thoughts trouble her as the Slayer – her confidence in her strength and skill had meant she felt prepared for any fight. Now she was nervous and she was pretty sure Spike had noticed it, with the way he kept darting looks at her.

“Stop it,” she said, struggling to suppress her smile.

Spike came to a halt and stared at her in surprise.

“Stop what?”

“Stop checking.”

“I’m not – well, I mean… Yeah, alright.”

His shoulders sagged in defeat and he pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a drag.

“S’quiet tonight.”

“Shame.”

He raised an eyebrow as he studied her, making her turn her face away embarrassedly.

“Don’t need to prove yourself, you know.”

“Don’t I?” she challenged him, meeting his gaze, “You think I can’t do this.”

“Maybe you can. Just not itching to have you in a fight.”

She glared at him, but his eyes were distant, lost in some memory.

“Already lost you once.”

She had already looked away when his eyes focussed on her once more.

“I’m a little more clued-up than your average Sunnydale resident,” she said, quickly avoiding any awkwardness caused by his emotional words, “I know what to do. I’ll be okay.”

“We’ll see,” he murmured half to himself.



She wanted to be angry with Spike – knew the old her would have been - but she just couldn’t summon up any anger because, after all, he was right. She could so easily get hurt. Killed. She could fight but she was nothing compared to a vampire with any kind of experience. She shuddered and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Let’s get out of here,” she spoke up, “There’s nothing here.”

Spike gave her a long look, but nodded and followed her as she headed out of the graveyard – and away from any potential danger. They wandered aimlessly for a while, until she realised they were close to Restfield.

“Can we go to yours?” she asked.

“You want to go to mine?”

“I thought we could… hang out,” she murmured, trailing off with a shrug when she realised how strange that sounded.

“You want to hang out with me?”

Spike looked almost dazed in his surprise.

“That’s what we’re doing right now, isn’t it?” she answered, unable to meet his gaze, “I thought maybe we could sit down somewhere. My feet hurt.”

He gave her another long look and then gestured towards Restfield.

“After you.”



They made their way over to Spike’s crypt and she followed him slowly, feeling awkward. He threw off his coat and gestured to the armchair.

“Only got the one chair…”

“I’m good,” she said, lifting herself onto a sarcophagus.

He studied for a few long moments, his eyes trailing over her face.

“Your head looks better.”

“I had a headache for a bit the next day, but it wasn’t too bad.”

“Good,” he said softly, his gaze making her nervous again.

“So… what do you usually do in the evenings?” she asked, looking around the almost empty crypt.

“Patrol… drink… bit of TV.”

“Exciting life you live,” she teased, smiling as she glanced at him.

He smiled back and got to his feet, going to the fridge and rooting around for a few moments before retrieving a bottle. She raised an eyebrow but he said nothing, pulling the top from the bottle and taking a long gulp.

“You want some?” he asked, holding the bottle out to her.

“What is it?” she asked.

“S’just wine.”

“I’m not really a drinker.”

“It’s not that strong,” he said with a smile, settling back into the chair, “Running a bit low on supplies.”

He took another gulp and she watched him for a few moments, before speaking up.

“Can I try some?”

He smiled and stood, coming over to her and handing her the bottle. She took an experimental sip and stopped, assessing the taste.

“It’s not so bad.”

Spike just laughed and she took another, longer mouthful. His hand on her arm stopped her.

“Woah there. No need to go chugging it all down.”

He took the bottle from her and disappeared across the crypt.

“Let’s see if we can make this a bit more civilised, yeah.”

He came back with one short, cracked glass and a mug and placed them down on the sarcophagus next to her.

“Real civilised,” she commented with a smile, taking the glass he handed to her. He smiled back and raised his mug to her before taking a long gulp.

She raised her glass to her lips and took a mouthful, the sweet taste of the wine spreading around her mouth. She felt it move through her, relaxing her and leaving her a little lightheaded. It felt nice to let go, to forget about everything that was going wrong in her life.