XIX

“Hollywood Forever Cemetery,” he read aloud. “Well that’s just… horrible. Wasn’t called that before.”

“Yeah. It was Hollywood Memorial or something. There are like a bunch of old film stars here apparently. And I mean old – like, no one I know. Except for Charlie Chaplin.”

Spike followed her lead through the main gates of the expansive graveyard and along the well-kept paths.

“You sure Clem lives here, Slayer?”

“Yeah. You don’t remember how much he loves movies?”

“Sure, but this place is a bit… I don’t know. Conspicuous.”

“But that’s the thing. With the movie studio in the back, no one thinks twice about someone like Clem walking around.”

“Huh. Guess not.”

“Plus, he gets to roam the studio lots at night. Frank and Edie love to play on the sets.”

“Who?

“His kids.”

“Clem’s got sprogs?”

“Yup.”

“Bloody hell. He’s got a bird then too?”

“Um, no. He’s got a cat though.”

Spike glared at her. “I meant a wife, you ninny.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah. Missy.”

“What’s he doing with a cat?”

“Edie wouldn’t let them eat Kitty when she was young. So now they just eat Kitty’s babies.”

Spike’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “You’re saying you’re okay with that, Slayer?”

Buffy shrugged. “I dated a vegetarian in London for a while who pointed out to me on a regular basis that I was a murderer for eating burgers and chicken fingers. So I guess that made me less judgey.”

Spike just shook his head. It was bloody mindboggling how much she had mellowed. Forty years would do that to a person he supposed. He’d pretend he didn’t hear the part about the vegetarian though.

Stepping off the paved path, they strolled among the headstones into the graveyard proper.

“See? Look at these names. Have you heard of any of these people?”

“Yeah. Most of ’em actually. There’s Maila Nurmi there.”

“Who?”

“Vampira. You never saw Plan 9 from Outer Space?”

“Uh, no. I’ve been too busy watching – you know – good stuff.”

“Like Mansquito.”

Buffy gave him a pout. “You liked Mansquito.”

“Pretty sure I said I didn’t.”

“That’s cause you’re old.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Buffy’s mouth dropped open with a gasp. “Did you just call me old?”

“If the bloomers, fit, granny.” He’d even managed to say it with a straight face.

THUMP

She’d pushed him hard, causing him to stumble, and he couldn’t keep a straight face anymore and started to chuckle.

Her face sank. “You think I look old.”

That killed his laughter. “What?”

“You think I look old.”

“Buffy, you haven’t aged in forty years for fuck’s sake. How could I possibly think that?”

“I can still look haggard. Or worn out or something. Or pasty,” she whined.

Bloody hell. He didn’t know how she could do that, make him feel so protective, and of someone so indestructible.

“Pet, you’re… You don’t look old. Or haggard or worn out or anything so...”

Sad eyes looked up through fluttering lashes.

He swallowed. “You’re–“

“Buffy!”

Clem.

Turning around, Spike spotted his old poker buddy jogging towards them.

“Whoa!” Clem stopped in his tracks. “Spike?”

Spike looked back to Buffy, but found her smiling again at the sight of their old friend. So he let himself smile too.

“Good to see ya, mate,” he said with a genuine grin, before patting Clem roughly on the shoulder.

“Look at you!” Clem shouted with excitement. “You look…”

Spike raised an eyebrow.

“Well… like you always did, I guess,” he finished with a shrug. “Oh. Except the hair. Not so bright. I like!”

“You’re looking good too, Clem. Got a few more skin folds, I see.”

“Yeah! Cool, huh? That’s the great thing about getting old.” With a hand under his chin, Clem started flapping at his neck folds with pride. “Wow. This is so great. So how have you been? Where have you been? Are you staying in L.A.? Hey! I know a great crypt on the east lawn that would be perfect for you! We could be neighbors again!”

Spike smiled warmly. “It’s a pretty little park you got here, mate, but I’m living above ground these days. Well, sort of. Got a basement flat in the bad part of town. You should stop by.”

“Wow. I’m there! I’ll bring wings! So what’s up? You guys here to see me?”

“Yeah,” Buffy injected. “Sorry to bring Spike here on business, Clem, but we need to get in touch with the Caretaker.”

“Oh. Again? What happened?”

“Dragvloks,” Spike replied. “They surrounded Slayer Central last night and torched the place. Took out a dozen Slayerettes.”

Clem cast a quick glance towards Buffy before making an “eek” face at Spike.

“So can you call him?” Buffy asked.

“Um. Sure.” He shrugged. “He still owes me two litters. How many girls are injured?”

“We don’t need a doctor, Clem. I just need to talk to him. About his business.”

Clem looked nervously at Spike. “His business?”

Buffy walked to stand between the old friends. “He uses demon parts for his spells, right?”

“Uh…”

“Clem.”

“Is that illegal?”

“No.”

“Oh. Then, um, yeah. You know how shamans are. Heart of this, tongue of that,” he said with an awkward chuckle.

“Tongue?” She was in his face.

“Or tail!” Clem added hurriedly, hands out in front of him.

“Give ‘em a bit of room, Slayer. You’re breathing down his neck, for Christ’s sake.”

She looked back at Spike and seemed to remember herself. “Sorry, Clem. This isn’t an interrogation or anything. I just need to speak to him – find out what he knows about the Dragvloks.”

“I’d love to help you, Buffy, you know that. But I doubt he would know anything about those guys. I mean he’s just a little shaman dude. Those Dragvloks are pretty ferocious. Have you seen their talons?”

Silence.

”Right. I guess you have.” Clem scratched at his head. “Look, I know Milo uses the odd demon part for his potions and things, but I don’t see him out there actually chopping them up or anything.”

“Milo?” the blonds spoke simultaneously.

“Oops.”

“Look, Clem. Maybe he doesn’t collect the parts himself. But then he’d have suppliers, right?”

He shrugged. “I guess.”

“So I just need to find out more about his suppliers. Maybe they track the movements of various demons and could tell us where the Dragvloks have gone since yesterday.”

Clem wrinkled his brow even more, if that was possible. “That’s a bit of a stretch, Buffy. Don’t you think?”

“Arggh! Will you guys stop saying that?!”

The two blokes shared knowing looks.

“Buffy, if you just want to find out where the Dragvloks have gone, you’d have better luck eavesdropping at Levi’s.”

“Where?”

“Oi, that’s that pub down at Venice Beach, right?”

“Yeah. You’ve been?”

“Was down there the other night. Got a tip on a demon bird in Santa Lucia that led me to one Buffy Anne Summers for the first time in forty years.”

“No way, man! I’m there like three nights a week! They’ve got some great poker games in the back room. We should team up. Hey, you wanna maybe meet up there tomorrow?”

Spike looked at Buffy out of the corner of his eyes. “Uh, maybe. We need to sort out these Dragvloks first. You gotta phone, mate?”

“Yeah.”

The two pulled out their phones and exchanged numbers.

“Well since you’ve got your phone out, Clem, maybe could you at least give us the Caretaker’s number?”

Spike frowned at her disapprovingly. “Forget Milo, Slayer. This pub down at Venice Beach is a much better idea. Think about it. If I could find you after all this time just by eavesdropping on a few vamps at that place, what do you think we’ll overhear about the demons that slaughtered a dozen Slayers less than twenty-four hours ago?”

Buffy sighed.

Sensing Clem’s discomfort, Spike put an arm around his shoulder. “And think of Clem. He’s got enough on his plate with his own brood now. We don’t want him in trouble with his poker buddies. It’s risky enough for him already, being friendly with Slayers. He can’t be luring his mates into interrogations by professional demon killers.”

Clem nodded his agreement.

Buffy crossed her arms and sulked. “Fine.”

That made the two blokes smile.

“So when do I meet the missus and the sprogs?”

“Oh. Missy would love to meet you! I’ve told her all about the old days. Remember Sunnydale?”

“Rings a bell.”

“Those were good times, huh? Two young bachelors hanging out, watching TV, drinking beer over a good game of poker…”

“Whiskey, mate. And you always cheated at cards.”

Clem nodded. “Yeah. That’s fair.”

“So, what’s the deal? Is married life not all the story books say?”

“Oh no. It’s great. Missy and me are happy as clams. And the kids! Wait till see you them. So cute.”

“How long does a Tergus live for anyway? You’re pretty old to be having kids, mate.”

“About two hundred years, if we’re lucky. I’m only ninety-three. The men don’t stop breeding until we’re one-hundred and twenty or so.”

“Huh.”

“Missy and the kids are at her mother’s, but you should check out the place while you’re here. We’re just in Willie Taylor’s crypt over there.” Clem pointed deep into the park grounds.

Spike knew Buffy would be eager to get to the pub. Gossip had a short half-life, after all.

“Another time, mate. We should head over to Levi’s if we want to hear the latest. Willie Taylor, huh?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled. “I wanted Rudy Valentino’s but he gets too many humans visiting during the day – uh, no offense, Buffy. Or Peter Lorre’s crypt, but there’s a Skench nest there. At least the Taylor crypt is private.”

“Well thanks, Clem,” Buffy interjected, but she seemed a little disappointed to not be getting what she’d come for.

“Yeah, sure. Anytime.” Turning back to Spike, Clem was all smiles. “Wow. I still can’t believe you’re here after all these years. I hope you’re gonna stick around, man.” Clem enveloped him in a proper hug. “Call me,” he urged, making a phone gesture with his hands as he backed away into the graveyard.

Spike nodded and resisted a goofy grin of his own. It was nice to see an old face again, a friendly one anyway.

He turned to Buffy. “So Levi’s?”

“Guess so,” she grumbled, as she followed him out of the park.

“It was good to see Clem again after all these years.”

“Yeah. He seemed pretty happy to see you too. You guys were good friends, huh?”

“He was my only friend, pet. There weren’t a lot of options in that piece of shite town. Especially not with my being so friendly with you.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah? Since when?”

That seemed to startle her, before she frowned. “Um. Since now I guess.”

That gave him pause. “Forget it, Slayer. That was a lifetime ago.” He started walking again and she soon caught up.

“So do you have many friends now?”

“A few,” he replied casually. “Not in California though. But yeah, I’ve been everywhere. Met plenty of people.”

“Girlfriends?” she asked nonchalantly, looking off into the distance.

Fuck.

“Uh… a few of those too, I suppose,” he muttered guiltily. But then he felt silly for feeling guilty. “It’s been forty years, Slayer. What am I, a monk?” It wasn’t like she’d feel betrayed or anything. She’d been shagging the Poof of all people. And just the thought of that made him want to kill something.

She didn’t say anything else until they’d reached the car.

“Can I have your phone?”

Spike dug his phone from his pocket and handed it over before opening her car door unthinkingly.

Closing the door behind her, he settled himself into the driver’s seat. “You wanna check in on the Slayerettes?”

“No. I wanna call Angel.”

Spike stiffened. Starting the engine, he sped out of the graveyard.

“Just checking in with the Poof then?” He was pretty sure he’d kept the bitterness out of his voice.

“No. I want to see if he’s heard anything about the Dragvloks. If he hasn’t, maybe he could use whatever sources he has.”

Fair enough, he supposed. But he hated that the bastard always had a way in. He could hear the line ringing after she’d punched in the number that she clearly knew by heart.

“What is it, Spike?” he could hear Angel demand.

Brilliant. At least the bastard would have the displeasure of knowing Buffy was with him.

“Angel, it’s me.”

“Buffy?”

“Yeah.”

“What-?”

“I don’t have time for twenty questions, Angel. I need to find the Dragvloks that fled the warehouse last night.”

He could hear Angel sigh. “I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Thanks.”

“Look Buffy, about Spike…”

“I don’t want to hear it, Angel. Whatever you have to say, it isn’t good enough.”

Spike whipped his head towards her in surprise. But she wouldn’t look at him back.

“Buffy-“

“You lied, Angel. Enough said.”

“No, Buffy. Spike lied. He’s the one who kept his reappearance a secret from you. You don’t get to blame me for that!”

Buffy turned her head toward Spike, but he looked away quickly, fixing his gaze on the road.

“Look, Buffy. That wasn’t my call to make.” Angel had softened his tone. “He stayed away for his own reasons. I kept him in the loop as much as he wanted to be. But he rarely asked about you.”

Spike clenched his jaw painfully and turned the car sharply as he switched lanes. He was desperate to shout something back, but had nothing to say in his own defense.

“And to be honest, Buffy. When we were together, my thoughts were only of you. Of us, and how happy we were.”

Silence.

“Do you remember our cabin in Snow Valley?”

Ugh.

“I remember frost bite and a broken toe, Angel. This is hardly the time for this. In fact, the time for that is over. If you want to help, great. Call us on Spike’s phone if you find out anything.”

“Buffy-“

“Good bye, Angel.”

Buffy tossed the phone carelessly into his lap.

So it was over.

Spike gave an internal sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure he could have stomached the possibility that the two of them had ended up together in the end. He’d long ago prepared himself for some other git. But not Angel.

The two stayed quiet for some time – both looking at the road ahead.

“You know this isn’t your fight, Spike. You don’t have to be here, helping me, if you-”

“I know that, Slayer,” he insisted quietly. “No one’s pulling my strings.” He paused. “Not even you.”

She didn’t reply.

“So why did you two crazy kids end things anyway? Thought it was supposed to be the great vampire-slayer romance for the ages.” He was good at sarcasm. He was comfortable with it.

She turned to look outside her window. “We didn’t end anything, Spike.”

Fuck.

“I ended it.”

Bloody hell. Sadistic bitch.

“And why was that? The absence of beach picnics?”

“It was already over when I graduated high school, Spike,” she said simply. “It just took me forty years to realize that.”

That stunned him into silence.

“He was my first love. It was a big deal. Once. But could you imagine yourself with your first love now?

Cecily?

“Bloody hell no.”

“Well…” Buffy sighed. “Neither can I anymore.”

And suddenly, the world seemed like a brighter place. Spike felt so light he could have floated away. It didn’t mean she could ever imagine herself with him. She was probably over the forbidden romance thing. She’d done the rekindling of old flames bit and Angel had gotten burnt. But somehow, knowing that Angel didn’t stand between them anymore…

He smiled to himself.

Well, now anything seemed possible.

* * * * * * *

Spike parked Queenie in the crowded lot outside Levi’s.

“Spike, is this a biker bar or something?”

“Huh?”

“It’s called Levi’s. I’m thinking blue jeans and biker boots.”

Spike bit back a grin. “The sign there has a giant sea monster around the name, Slayer. I’m pretty sure ‘Levi’ is short for Leviathan.”

“Who?”

“Giant sea monster.”

“Oh.”

God she was cute.

“So you know the drill, pet.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m dinner.”

He grinned. “A regular snack.”

“Whatever.”

“So you’ll stay quiet, then.”

“Uh huh.”

“No matter what goes on in there.”

“Uh huh.”

She looked a little on edge though, like she was itching for a bit of violence. But he trusted her.

“Alright.”

Spike had noticed a few humans at Levi’s the last time he’d been there, so no one seemed too fussed about his walking in with one. A Venice Beach thing, he supposed.

The place was packed tight and hotter than dog’s balls and there wasn’t a free stool in sight. Eyeing a Tergus at the bar who could have passed for Clem’s brother, Spike nodded to Buffy to follow him. The blonds squeezed between the Tergus and a fungus demon whose antlers were hard to avoid. He annoyed Spike instantly, and it had nothing to do with the humiliation that a certain fungus fuckwit had caused him in Brazil. Really, it didn’t.

“Oi.”

A pair of slimy antlers twisted around, and the ugly bastard glowered in silence.

“The lady needs a seat, Bambi.”

“Fuck you, vampire. And your human.”

“Fuck me, huh?”

“You heard me.”

“And fuck her, too?” Spike added calmly, pointing a thumb behind him towards Buffy.

“Did I stutter?”

Spike smiled.

“Agh!”

The fungus demon screamed in agony as Spike snapped a slimy antler in half and rammed the pointed end into the demon’s eye. Hands to his face, the fungus demon doubled over on his stool and howled.

“Stop whining, you slimy prat.”

Grabbing him by his shirt, Spike threw him off the stool and shoved him towards the exit with a boot to his backside. The bouncer was all too quick to finish the job and ushered the sorry bastard through the door – no doubt only thinking of keeping the place peaceful. The attack had garnered a few looks, but had barely upset the atmosphere of the place.

Spike loved that about demon bars.

With exaggerated chivalry, he ushered Buffy into the free seat with a wink, and she fought back a smile as she rolled her eyes.

The bartender was less amused. Walking over with a scowl, he pounded a fist on the bar.

“That’s thirty bucks, vampire.”

“What for?”

“That guy’s tab.”

Spike frowned. “Bugger. Well, keep the tab running and give me a Jack. Straight.”

“And the lady?”

“Oh,” Buffy said with surprise. “Um, I’ll have a beer. Sam Adams, I guess. Thanks.”

Nodding, the bartender went to get their drinks.

“No talking, Slayer. Let’s just keep our ears open,” he whispered.

“Duh. We covered this already.”

“So what do you have against fungus demons?” the Tergus interjected who was sitting on Spike’s other side. “Is it the slime?”

“Nothin’ personal, mate. Just didn’t like how he spoke to the lady.”

“A vampire defending a human? Curious.”

“Not when they’re as hot as she is, mate. Or as tasty,” Spike added with a leer.

“If you say so. I don’t care much for humans, myself. Very unfriendly. And they keep kittens as pets!”

Spike chuckled, thinking of Clem and his cat. “Don’t forget the Slayers, mate. They’re a real pain in the ass. You know, they’ll kill a Tergus – as peaceful as your kind is – just as quickly as they’ll kill a vamp.”

“True!” the Tergus responded indignantly.

“What did your lot ever do to a Slayer anyway, you know?”

“You’re right. Nothing!”

“I reckon L.A.’s gone to shit since it got overrun with Slayers.”

“Oh. You didn’t hear then?”

Bingo.

“Hear what?” Spike asked innocently.

“About the Slayers.”

“What about ‘em? I’ve been up north in Santa Lucia. Just got back tonight. Why? What happened?”

“Oh, man! That’s the talk of the town. Why do you think this place is so packed? Everybody’s in a good mood tonight.”

“The suspense is killing me here.”

“Well, apparently, a bunch of Dragvloks went to war with the Slayers in the city. They discovered the Slayer headquarters and set the place on fire. Scattered them like roaches and exterminated the lot of them. Well, most of them anyway.”

“You kiddin’ me?”

“Nope.”

“So where are the Dragvloks now? If I were them, I’d be bragging to every demon in town.”

Bollocks. Spike hoped he hadn’t gone too far with that question, but the Tergus didn’t seem like the suspicious type.

“Word is, they disbanded after they’d gotten their revenge. I overhead a Davric say he saw two of them at the docks getting a boat to Asia. And a Frocter was in here earlier saying he heard some others were headed back to Vancouver. I think they all left town. Not sure. But they’re L.A. legends now.”

“Guess that means I’ll have no more trouble feeding in this town.”

“Well, there are still a few more Slayers around. But they wouldn’t be as much trouble as that Slayer they’ve got in Santa Lucia from what I hear. You’re lucky you didn’t run into her when you were there.”

“I did.”

“And you survived? Wow. No one who goes there ever comes back. I hear she’s old. Real old. And strong.”

“Guess I got lucky with the old bag.”

Spike suppressed a smile. He’d get another punch in the nose later for sure.

“Well, if you could escape that one, you’ll manage alright with the Slayers here. They’re not so tough.”

Spike lifted his glass to the Tergus. “Cheers, mate.”

The Tergus grinned. “Yeah! To a Slayer-free L.A.!” he yelled.

The bar erupted into hoots and hollers.

“On that note, I think I’ll get rid of the lady and wreak a little havoc on the town tonight,” Spike said with a smirk.

“Have fun. Hey nice talking to you…”

“Bill.”

“Nice talking to you, Bill. See ya around.”

With a nod, Spike turned to put a crumpled twenty on the table before dominantly guiding Buffy out the door.

Once outside, he braced for another punch.

“I’m not going to hit you again, Spike.”

“Good. Cause I was gonna have to hit you back this time, Slayer. And I’m not into that anymore.”

Buffy furrowed her brow. “Neither am I.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Really. I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Forget it. I’m sorry that your bad guys skipped town.”

She sighed. “Yeah. It sounds like they have. I guess that’s a good thing. I mean, there’s revenge and all, but then there’s the girls. It’s more important to me that the Slayers are safe.”

Silence.

“So what now, pet?”

She looked a little lost.

“Come on,” he said with a nod towards the beach. “Let’s walk a little.”

She looked uncertain for a moment before following his lead.

The two strolled along the boardwalk for some time, exchanging looks when they happened upon any of the weirder of the beach’s visitors.

After a while, she spoke. “I love the smell of the sea.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I missed it in London. I’ve been to other coastal cities, of course, but there’s something about the California coast.”

Spike didn’t reply, distracted by the image of her skin in the moonlight, and her hair being carried away by the breeze.

“We use to take the kids here all the time when they were young. It seems like yesterday that we did that. And now Joycie is getting married and Jesse is already going grey. I can’t believe how quickly time goes for…”

“Mortals?”

“Yeah,” she muttered softly.

Spike sighed quietly. Looking at her melancholy only made him angrier at Willow. “Wanna sit in the sand?”

She gave him a half smile. “Sure.”

Spike kicked off his shoes, then shed his coat and started walking on the beach. Laying his jacket out on the dry sand nearest to the surf, he took a seat and spread his legs out in front of him.

She took a seat on his coat as well and adopted the same posture. He could feel the heat from her legs, they were so close to his own.

“This is kinda fun,” she said with a bigger smile.

She was radiant when she smiled that way - so openly. “Yeah, it is.”

They sat quietly for a while, looking out at the waves.

When he spoke, his voice was grave. “You said Willow’s spell gave you opportunities, Buffy. Like being an aunt and such. What else?”

She seemed to think about it for a second. “Um… everything, I guess. I mean, everything I’ve seen and done in the last forty years would never have happened if I hadn’t been brought back. I’ve been all over the world now, and I never thought I’d get to do that. I’ve been to Turkey, Egypt, China. I’ve walked the Great Wall – well, pieces of it anyway. I’ve been to Paris a bunch of times. Oh my gosh, they have the best macaroons there! I’ve been to Sicily, Mexico, Tunisia, Botswana, Indonesia.” She shrugged. “Everywhere.”

“Which place did you like best?”

“Hm. I don’t know. It always depended on my mood and the circumstances at the time. I mean, Scotland had a gloomy beauty about it that suited me after Sunnydale. Those were sad times after… after we’d lost so much.”

She looked at him briefly before quickly turning her eyes away.

“London had an energy about it that was cool when I was helping to rebuild the Council and actively training all the new Slayers there. Other places, like Romania and Italy and Mongolia, had a mystery about them that made the search for Slayers more interesting.”

“And California?”

“Is home.”

“But your niece and nephew are in London?”

“Yeah. It’s not the same being here without them, but it’s still home to me.”

“You don’t want to be with them?”

“They have their own lives now.”

“Is Dawn why you stay here?”

“Yes and no. I came back here partly because she did. But it’s just where I belong, California. Close to Sunnydale. I think a part of me will always be in Sunnydale.”

“Of course. It’s where your mum is, love. A part of me will always be in London, you know, near my mum. And the old house.”

“What about you? You’ve been everywhere too. Where were you the happiest?”

‘Here. Now.’ he thought to himself. “Don’t know, pet. I’m happy wherever I’ve got something to do. Don’t like being idle.” He stretched his arms out above his head. “Speaking of which, let’s see how fast you can run.”

“What? You want to race?”

He shrugged. “Why not? I wanna see how much faster you are now.”

“I’m not as fast as you, Spike.”

“Well that’s a good thing, seeing as you were always stronger than me, and now even more so.”

“Jealous?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you never minded it before. You maybe even liked it.”

He grinned. He loved that she knew that. “So let’s see how fast you can run.”

Grabbing a lock of her hair, he yanked on it hard.

“Ow!”

“Come and get me, Slayer!” he yelled as he raced down the beach, Buffy on his heels.

She was faster, for certain, but she was no vampire and would never catch him. So he slowed to a stop some distance down the beach to let her catch up.

The moment she reached him, he took a swing at her jaw at full speed, which she ducked before throwing a punch at his gut. Too quick for her, he bent to the side and evaded it, then swung a bare foot towards her head. Catching his foot one-handed, she grabbed his shirt with the other hand and lifted him over her head, hurling him backwards into the surf.

Spike sank into the shallow water like a deadweight. He stayed under water for a moment, marveling at what she’d done. It was a show of unbelievable strength for a human. He hadn’t realized she’d grown that strong.

“Spike?”

He could hear her shout his name, and so poked his head out of the water.

“Are you alright?”

He smiled widely and started laughing.

Running towards him, she walked knee deep into the water. “What’s so funny? Did you hit your head on a rock or something? Are you like, delirious?”

“You, pet. Bloody hell, you’re strong.” He was grinning ear-to-ear.

She smiled shyly. “Yeah well, I’m not so fast.”

“Faster than you used to be.”

“I guess.”

Spike stood up out of the water and combed his fingers through his hair to brush it back. He was soaked through – his shirt and jeans clinging to him uncomfortably.

“You’re soaking wet.”

“And you’re lucky I don’t dump your sweet little ass in there next, Slayer, and let you see what this feels like.“ He started to stalk towards her with a look of mischief.

Buffy backed out of the water in a hurry. “Okay, we should get you dry, then,” she said nervously. “Let’s go. We’ll throw the clothes in the dryer back at the house.”

Spike stopped. “Buffy, I’ve got a flat. Remember?”

“What?”

“You can just drop me off at my place.”

“Oh. Right.”

“I can’t stay with the Whelp again, pet.”

“Of course.” She shook her head. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Um… I’ll drop you off I guess.”

Spike narrowed his eyes at her, but she looked away and started heading back to their shoes.

Did she want him to stay with her?

* * * * * * *

“This is your building?” she asked.

“Yeah. My place is just down those stairs.”

“Can I see it?”

Spike swallowed. ”Sure.”

She followed him down the stairs.

“I can’t believe you have a real apartment. That’s so… I don’t know.”

“Human?”

“Yeah. I guess. Angel always lived in houses and apartments and well, castles. But then he’s always tried to be more human. You’ve always seemed happy being what you are.”

“Still am, Slayer. I wouldn’t be human again for anything. But it doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the finer things that humans have built.” He winked.

She rolled her eyes at him for the hundredth time that night.

He thought about showing off and having Kit open the door, but then he’d have to use his passcode, so he used his key.

“Bon soir, ma Cherie. Se ton amant.”

“Welcome home, sir.”

“Wow,” Buffy remarked.

“We’ve got a guest, Kit.”

“Scanning guest. Welcome, female. You are the first female guest to this residence.”

“Oi! Shut, it, Kit!”

“Shut what, Sir?”

“Your gob, you electronic piece of sh-“

“Spike!” Buffy exclaimed.

“What?”

She whispered her reply. “That’s mean!”

Spike looked at her like she’d grown a horn. “Slayer, it’s a bloody computer program.”

“Well… it’s still mean,” she hissed.

Spike just shook his head, while Buffy walked further into the apartment to look around. “Wow, Spike. This place is… It’s great. It’s so cheerful for a basement apartment.”

“Cheerful?” he groaned.

“You know, not depressing. Not with the reeking of death,” she teased. “I like it.”

“Thanks,” he said with a smirk.

“It looks expensive too.”

“Cause it is.”

“Where did you say you get your money?”

“I didn’t.” He grinned at her attempts to find out.

“Fine. Keep your secrets,” she replied with a pout. “I love the art work in here. It looks like you’re seeing through real windows.”

“Yeah. They’re my favorite part of the flat. They’re trompe l’oeil.”

“Huh?”

“’Deceive the eye’ in French,” he replied as he kicked off his shoes and peeled off his wet shirt.

“Oh.” She was staring at him. And her eyes seemed to be freezing him in place.

Suddenly, she yawned.

“You must be knackered, pet.”

“Not really,” she let out through another yawn.

“Why don’t you crash here?” Shit. That was probably pushing it.

She blinked at him.

If his heart could beat, it would’ve been racing.

“Uh… the couch is actually pretty comfortable. You can take the bed. Get a good night’s sleep for once – you know – an actual sleep as opposed to whatever it is you do when you… reboot.”

She was staring at him again. And he wished to god he knew what she was thinking.

“I don’t want to impose on you, Spike. You’ve already done so much.”

He furrowed his brow. “What have I done?”

“Spike. You killed two Dragvloks at my house and who knows how many at Slayer Central.”

“At least six.”

She smirked. “Exactly. Who knows how many girls you saved last night.”

“It’s nothing, Slayer.”

“You’re wrong. And… thank you.” She was smiling at him now, with that big-eyed look that she had when she was sincere.

He nodded shyly.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” she said hesitantly.

Bloody hell. She was actually gonna stay. And in his bed.

“Not at all, pet.” He paused. “You’re always welcome here.”

And once again, the air grew heavy.

“Um, I’ll just go change. Make yourself at home. I wish I could offer you something to eat or drink, but there’s just blood.”

“I am a little hungry. Can I order something?”

“Of course. Kit’ll sort you out. Just ask her. I’ll be back in a tic.”

He left her in the living room and slipped into his bedroom, closing the sliding door behind him. Once hidden, he let himself sigh deeply. Staring at his bed, he imagined her under the covers, naked and warm, her scent permeating his sheets. He could feel himself growing hard and growled softly in frustration. Time. That was all he needed. The longer he was around her again, the more used to it all he would get. Things were still too new. Neither of them had gotten over the shock of seeing the other again. Time was all he needed.

At least he hoped so. Because by the look of things, neither of them were going to be asking for space any time soon.

Before peeling off his jeans, Spike ducked back out and into the bathroom for a quick shower to wash off the sea salt. Once clean and dry, he changed into a pair of black silk pajama pants that he’d picked up in Shanghai. He still slept in the nude, but the pants were a comfortable option for lounging about the house. Shirtless, he returned to the living room to find her watching TV.

“Anything good on?”

She was sprawled out on the sofa looking very much at home.

“Swamp Shark. It’s a-”

“Classic?”

“No, not this one. It’s actually pretty lame. But in a funny way.”

Spike lifted her feet to sit at the end of the sofa and began absentmindedly rubbing her soles. “Did I hear you order food?”

“Unh. Wow. That feels… Unh.”

Fuck.

Every “unh” out of her mouth made his cock throb.

She sighed in obvious pleasure.

“Pizza. I ordered pizza and buffalo wings.”

He stopped rubbing. “Wings?”

“I remember how much you like them.” Her eyes were closed, but she was smiling at him. He started rubbing again more forcefully, as he drew deep circles into her soles.

“Unh. Oh god, can you never stop?”

He swallowed as he stared at her mouth, slightly parted.

“Did you do this for Drusilla?”

He paused in his work, but for only a moment.

“And more. I had a bad habit of doting on her. She never appreciated it half as much as you are now, though.”

Her eyes still closed, she smiled lazily before a thought seemed to crease her brow.

“Do you ever miss her?”

‘Not like I’ve missed you’, he thought to himself.

“Sometimes.”

She opened her eyes then and met his.

“You know,” he added. “The companionship.”

She smiled slightly. “Sure.”

A moment of silence passed between them as he continued to massage her feet. She let her eyes close again.

“Would you ever go back to her?”

“No,” he said without hesitation. He asked her the same. “Would you ever go back to Angel?”

“Angel is the kind of guy that makes teenage girls swoon, Spike.”

“And you’re no teenage girl anymore?”

“I’m an old lady now. Remember?” she teased.

“So what kind of man makes an old lady swoon?”

She giggled. “I don’t know. Maybe, old ladies don’t swoon.”

He moved his hands up to her calves to give them a similar treatment.

“Oh god! That… Unh!”

Fuck. He needed to stop.

“You always had great hands,” she said wistfully.

He pressed deeper.

“Oh god, you’re so good at that!” Her eyes were still closed and she was practically writhing on her back. All thoughts of being careful fled his mind. Growing bold, he released her calf and moved his hands towards her thigh to–

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Pizza!”

Spike retracted his hands quickly and stood up. Snatching some money from his wallet, he reached the door in two strides and thrust it open, being sure to close it behind him. Grabbing the pizza boy by his shirt, he shoved him roughly against the wall, as he vamped out with a growl. He spoke under his breath, out of earshot. “This better be some fucking good pizza, mate.”

Terrified, the boy dropped the pizza bag on the floor and tried to flee, but Spike caught him by the back of his belt.

“Slow down, junior. You forgot your money.” Spike stuffed two twenties down the kid’s back pocket, before smacking the back of his head.

“On your way, then.”

With a mixture of disappointment and guilt, Spike watched the delivery boy run away. He’d really have to work on his people skills if he was going to be spending time with the Slayer again. It wasn’t the kid’s fault he’d interrupted… well, whatever it was that was happening between them.

The smell of the wings was already calming his temper, so he collected the food from the floor and rejoined her with a smile.

“Pizza?” she asked eagerly.

“Eat up while it’s hot, Slayer.”

“That’s the great thing about L.A. these days. Twenty-four hour delivery.”

The two ate their food while they watched the remainder of Swamp Shark, with Buffy once again falling asleep before the movie had ended. This time he decided to carry her to bed, but woke her briefly once he’d laid her down to give her a T-shirt to change into. Groggily, she began to change out of her clothes in front of him, and he had to muster every shred of his Victorian manners to leave her.

Grabbing an extra pillow from the bed and a blanket from the closet, Spike made himself comfortable on the sofa. And he was comfortable, he had to admit. No, more than that. He was happy. For whatever reason, she wanted to be around him, if not with him. And for reasons that had always been obvious to him, she had no interest in Angel anymore. And tonight – only days after they’d rediscovered each other after forty years apart – she was in his flat. Sleeping in his bed. Wearing nothing but his shirt. Her scent hanging in the air. Young and more beautiful than ever.

Spike let out the sigh of a contented man. He didn’t have everything that he wanted from her by a long shot. After all, he wanted it all. But he had a hell of a lot more than he’d ever thought possible.

Curling up on his side, his hands tucked under his pillow, he smiled widely in the dark.

He could get used to this.