Chapter 03

‘maybe he could talk about the tricks of the trade
maybe he could talk about himself
maybe he could talk about the money that he made
maybe he'd be saying something else’
- “communique” by dire straits

Spike couldn’t remember the last hot shower he had. Not that it made much difference to a cold-blooded (and bodied) creature like a vampire but it was still a nice feeling after all. Of course, Australia did have showers and everything but the places he’d been to hardly had running water. If coming to Slayer-central had one advantage, it was the nice accommodations.

The water ran down his back and slowly, the sore muscles started to ease a little. He had taken a ship from Australia to Los Angeles and from there he’d taken his bike to Cleveland. A hundred and some odd years, and this was the first time he’d been on Route 66. As resistant to pain as he was, riding a bike for five nights straight was not as much fun as it seemed.

Although he tried to push the thoughts away, his mind always wandered back to Buffy. The looks she’d given him in the conference room; the confusion on her face whenever their gazes had met. That was one reason why he had hardly looked at her.

He knew that the inevitable talk would come, sooner than later. He knew that she would hate him when he told her what he’d done. Not that he could blame her exactly. He owed her an explanation. More so, he owed her the truth, about everything. From the second he’d been back to the second she’d laid her eyes upon him in Kaileq’s lair.

Of course, some things were irrelevant. She didn’t need to know about each and every demon and vampire he’d killed in the meantime but other than that, she deserved the unabridged version.

Spike didn’t know how long he’d been in the shower but when he turned off the water, a thick cloud of mist had formed in the room. He stepped out of the small enclosure, wrapping a towel around his hips.

Although the gesture was unnecessary, he wiped a hand across the clouded mirror that would have revealed his face if he had a reflection.

When he went back into the other room, there was a knock on the door.

“Hold on,” he grunted as he started rummaging through his duffel bag for a clean pair of pants. He didn’t need to scare another Slayer. When he’d slipped into another pair of black cargo pants (whatever happened to his generic black jeans, he couldn’t remember), he grunted another, “Come in.”

It was Buffy. Of course, it was.


*

The moment Buffy stepped into the room, she felt her throat constrict as though she was choking on her own breath. She had no idea where that reaction came from but it happened whenever she thought of Spike.

He was naked but for a pair of those cargo pants she’d seen on him earlier. His upper body was glistening with water, as was the shadow of dark hair on his head. For some weird reason that still struck her as the oddest thing about his new look. She had never pictured him with anything but the Billy Idol look.

“Hey.” Her voice was barely audible when she closed the door and leaned against it.

“Hey,” he replied in almost the same tone.

“I think we need to talk.”

He shifted from one leg to the other, propping his hands on his hips. If she didn’t have more urgent matter at hand, she would have noticed the increased amount of scars on his body. They would vanish with time but some were still fresh and pink.

“Can you… can you put something on?” she heard herself say. It was ridiculous to make him dress considering their history but it was kind of a distraction.

“Sure.” He picked up his bag and produced a black t-shirt. At least one thing hadn’t changed about him.

When he turned, Buffy spotted a circular tattoo on his back right below his neck between his shoulder blades.

“The Helm of Awe. Nice.” She sounded almost annoyed by this next novelty.

“Ran into an old Asatru coven over in Norway. Gave it to me for protection.”

“They gave you the Kevlar vest, too?”

“No, got that in China.” Spike slipped into his shirt, smoothing it over his stomach.

Almost a minute passed in awkward silence.

Buffy tried not to let her disappointment get the better of her. One part of her wanted to scream at him, throw herself at him and tear him a second one. Another part of her hated him even though she hadn’t heard his reasons yet. And still another part of her didn’t care about his reasons, she hated him just because.

And then a part of her was just insanely happy to see him.

“Ten years, Spike.” Her voice was calm, resolved. Although all these emotions ran rampant inside her, she first and foremost wanted answers. “Talk.”

He nodded ever so slightly, sinking down on the bed that gave a loud squeak. He winced. “Promise to hear me out?”

She snorted uninterestedly. “You owe me. I’m not going to promise you anything.”

“Fair enough.” Spike ran a hand over his face, taking a deep breath. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything. I want to know everything.” She propped her hands on her hips. “Like, how you happened to pull this Phoenix impression.”

“I bet Giles has you filled in on that. I… I don’t know how it happened but I came back. Just like that. At first, I was a ghost and then, I got a… a flashbox in the mail and got corporeal again.”

“A flashbox? Are you kidding me? ‘Cause it’s not funny.”

“I am not,” he said pointedly. Buffy knew that he was serious but she was still too worked up about this whole thing. “Don’t you think if I’d had a better explanation I’d give it to you?”

“Yeah well, I’m not really sure what to believe right now, so bear with me here, okay?” Anger started to rise up inside her like bile.

“Just… give me a chance to explain, alright?” Now she heard the anger in his voice as well. He swallowed. “Andrew came to LA to pick up that whacked out Slayer. I told him not to tell you because… what was he supposed to tell you? What was I supposed to say?”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“I’m not sayin’ it is. I just… I died, and I came back. I didn’t know what was going on at the time and… I guess I was afraid that what happened back in Sunnydale wouldn’t mean anything anymore.”

Again, Buffy snorted. Was he serious? “You were afraid that returning from the dead would make you lose heroic brownie points?” One angry Slayer, many wacky quips.

“At the time, yeah. And seeing the way you react now tells me that I wasn’t entirely wrong, was I?”

“What happened after that?” She couldn’t deny that he wasn’t at least a little bit right. She had no idea how she would have reacted if he’d told her right away but that didn’t matter right now.

“A couple of months after that… Angel and I went to Rome to retrieve the head of some demon clan. We… went by your apartment and Andrew told us you were with the Immortal, that you were… snuggling. Told us to move on.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “I figured… that telling you wouldn’t make much sense anymore.”

“You… you were in Rome? In my apartment?” If her incredulousness could reach another level, she would have hit it right now. Once more, her mind started to spin with a mixture of emotions, mostly anger and confusion. She’d always believed Spike to be the most honest… being she knew. Tonight, she had been proven wrong. What else was he hiding from her?

And despite her fury, some part of her was also a little embarrassed that he’d gotten to know that she’d been with the Immortal. That was one thing she wasn’t so proud of. Of course, things had turned out well for her side but still… If she had known about his return back then, she would have done anything to keep that news from him, knowing how jealous these ensouled vampire could be when it came to her choice in boyfriends.

“Yes. Not sayin’ I’m proud of it. When we got back to LA, all hell broke loose with the whole Black Thorn business. I suppose you know about that?”

“We got word, yeah. But apparently we didn’t get the whole story,” she snapped.

“We barely got out of there in one piece. Gunn died, and Wes. When things… quieted down a little, Angel got in contact with the Council to send down some Slayers to contain the mess. And I… I made a deal with Giles.”

“What deal? To lie to me? To keep things from me?”

“Yes. He got to know that I was back. He agreed to…give me information on you in exchange… for me staying away from you. Seemed to fancy that deal a whole lot.” He looked up her, his eyes almost sad. “He would tell me what was going on around here, and I would…”

“Hide?” Buffy interrupted. At what point had her voice started to shake? “What did you do all those years? Except for getting this Riley look going?”

Clearly feeling hurt about that last comment, he raised his voice. “Hey, you take that back? I was trying to do the right thing, alright?”

“The right thing? You lied to me. You made my friends lie to me. How’s that the right thing?”

“You think I liked it?” He rose, anger burning in her eyes. “You think I liked not seeing you? Just reading about you in emails? It was the only way, don’t you understand that?”

“No, I don’t understand, Spike. I don’t understand why you stayed away from me for a decade.”

Now it was his turn to give an incredulous snort. “What do you think would’ve happened if I told you? If I’d come back? After all that happened… there was no way for me to be around you.”

She stared at him in utter disbelief. “You’re not the only one who’s having a say in this, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Right, the big heroic thing. You know what is right for me, you always have.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

“I was trying to protect you.”

“I didn’t need to be protected.”

“Exactly.”

“Spike, you do realise that you’re not making any sense, right?” Where was this going? When she’d come up to his room, she’d had a million question in her head but right now, she was pulling a blank sheet. Her thoughts were running in circles and spirals and there was no way out of this.

He took a deep breath. “You’re the strongest woman I know. No matter how many girls are crawling this place, you’ll always be the one Slayer. You don’t need me, never have. You saw what happened in Sunnydale when the First got a hold of me. When I’m around you, you get hurt,” he sighed. “I’m a burden to you.”

Silence fell between them. Buffy just stared at him. No matter how much sense his words made, she still didn’t understand them. There had been a time when she had tried to get rid of him, when all she had wanted was for him to disappear from her world. And now that he’d finally done that…

Heat started to rise somewhere behind her eyes, and she crossed her arms in front of her chest, trying to push the tears away.

“You remember when I told you that I was not ready for you not to be around? That’s still valid, you know?” her voice started to quiver. She couldn’t cry now. Not in front of him, not when she was supposed to be angry at him. “When you died… I mourned for you. Until I finally decided that I had to go on with my life, with my mission. And now you traipse in here, telling me that…,” her voice trailed off when she felt the first tear sliding down her cheek. She looked up at him, her eyes shining very green.

“Ten years, Spike. Ten years.” And then, she couldn’t hold the tears back any longer.

Spike was at her side in an instant, pulling her into his arms. She pressed her face against his shoulder, sobbing quietly into his t-shirt.

All the anger she had worked up in the last hour or two poured out of her. She couldn’t be angry at him any more. A huge part of her was still disappointed, feeling betrayed but the part of her that had mourned for him, that had dreamed about him so many times, that had wished for a little more time with him so she could tell him all the things she’d wanted to tell him… that part had taken over now.


*

Time seemed to have lost a good portion of it’s meaning when Spike held her like that, feeling her fragile body shaking against his.

He ran a hand over her hair, the other ran lazy patters across her back. “I’m here,” he murmured into her ear. “I’m here now.”

After an eternity, she pulled away from him, her eyes swollen and red. “How long are you going to be here?” Her voice was still heavy with tears.

“Dunno. Finish this Fate deal.” He shrugged, one hand still entangled in her hair. “We’ll see after that.”

She nodded weakly. “Okay. I… I should go now. Been a long day.”

“Yeah. We… We’ll talk tomorrow. Or… whenever.”

Buffy nodded again. “Sure.” She opened the door. “Goodnight, Spike.”

He tried to smile, then nodded. Before she closed the door behind her, he spoke again. “Buffy?” She turned to look at him. “I’m here.”

And then she left.

Spike ran a hand over his face. This wasn’t exactly what he’d thought it would be like. He knew that they weren’t done yet. He still hadn’t told her the truth. Not all of it anyway. For now, this was all she needed to know. He knew that he would have to tell her eventually but the time wasn’t right yet. She had a hard time wrapping her mind around the thought that he was back. If he’d filled her in about the rest of his story… if she didn’t hate him now already, she surely would then.

When he sat down on the bed again, his vision suddenly started to blur. A sharp pang of pain tore through his chest, and his left hand felt very numb. He clutched a hand over his heart, wincing in pain until it finally subsided. If he’d been in need of air, he’d have panted right now.

What the hell was that?



***


A/N: In case you’re not familiar with the Asatru symbols etc., here’s an example of what the ‘Helm of Awe’ might look like. I’m by no means an expert (had to google a whole lot) but as I understand it, there a few variations to this. I picked this one ‘cause it it found fit nicely there, if you know what I mean ;)