EVERY TIME YOU SAY GOOD-BYE
Buffy chewed her lip and looked over her shoulder before sliding open the window. She climbed onto the sill and looked around for the best place to put her note. Taping it to the window was out, as Dawn would see it if she went into the room for anything.
Maybe I should have just told them Spike was coming by a couple of times a month…It’s not like Dawn wouldn’t have invited him in. Oh well, too late now.
With the window out, she looked around for another place to tape her note where the weather wouldn’t be likely to destroy it before Spike’s return, and where he’d be sure to find it. She finally settled on the frame of the window at eye level, but not visible through the glass. Using heavy-duty duct tape, she taped the folded piece of thick paper on, giving it a final pat as she tore off the last piece of tape.
“Now, you just stay there till he sees you, ‘kay?”
She was just putting the window back down when Dawn stuck her head into the room.
“Are you ready? Xander’s got everything in the truck except whatever you still have in here.”
“Yep. All ready.” Buffy swung the two bags off the bed and carried them through the door. “Grab my purse, will you, please?”
It was only a few blocks to the tiny furnished apartment that one of the boys who were regulars at the coffee shop had told her was going to be available as a rental. Buffy couldn’t believe her luck and had said she’d take it, sight unseen. The owner of the condo was leaving for two years in Europe and hadn’t wanted to give up his home while he was gone. He was more than happy to know it was going to someone he sort of knew.
When the last of her meager belongings had been deposited in the small, but tastefully decorated, living room, Buffy hugged Dawn and Xander fiercely. “Thank you guys so much for taking me in. I know it was probably a pain having me there all this time, but I just….”
Dawn stroked her hair as if she were the older sister. “You just needed time to get your head together and figure out what you wanted to do. We get that. Besides, it’s not like there were a lot of jobs out there for ex-slayers.”
Buffy winced. “Not sure I’m exactly an ‘ex-slayer’. Seems like I’m the only one still working.”
“And on that cheerful note….”
Buffy stood in the doorway and waved as Xander steered Dawn down the hall to the stairs. When she could no longer see or hear them, she closed the door and, after a moment’s indecision, engaged the dead bolt and the security chain.
“A girl can’t be too careful,” she assured herself, trying not to feel silly that someone with her strength and fighting skills was depending on mechanical things to keep her safe while she slept. She carried her suitcases into the bedroom and began taking things out and putting them into little stacks on the bed.
~~~~~~~
Spike dropped onto the fire escape landing, and frowned into the dark room on the other side. He’d been sure that coming by this late at night would allow him to catch Buffy after patrol, but before she fell asleep. He listened carefully, but heard no heartbeat from the other side of the glass. He sat down, lit a cigarette, and began muttering to himself.
“Wonder if I stayed away too long this time? Maybe she’s found herself somethin’ better to do with her nights than mope in her room. Stubborn bint. If she’d just—”
His angry muttering broke off as his eye caught the fluttering of a torn piece of tape on the side of the window. Dangling from the wind-torn tape was a piece of equally abused paper with “Spike” written on one side. He snatched it off the wooden frame and peeled back the tape so that he could unfold the paper, going into gameface so he could read the lettering there. There was no message, just an address.
He was staring at the address, frowning and not paying attention to the other side of the window when his ears picked up a soft sound. He raised his head in time to see Dawn unlatching the window and pulling it up.
“It’s about three blocks that way,” she said, pointing to the right.
Spike nodded and gave her a small smile. “Thanks, Bit,” he said. “Guess she wasn’t as sneaky as she thought, huh?”
“Pulease! The day Buffy can outsneaky me… Well, that day just isn’t going to come.” She shrugged. “You’ve been gone a while, haven’t you? I was thinking I was going to have to retape that thing if you didn’t show up pretty soon.”
“Got held up. Couldn’t be helped, but I’ve got some info for Bu- the Slayer. Guess I’d best get it to her, yeah?” He stood up and reached up to the metal ladder over his head. “See you, Dawn. Make a rude gesture at Harris for me, will you?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll do some manly posturing for you. Go find Buffy.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After making a quick side trip, Spike found the building he was looking for and stood out front staring up at the top floor. He waited for several minutes, listening, until he finally gave up trying to identify Buffy’s heartbeat and went up the steps and in the door. The inner door, which theoretically required either a key or a buzzer from one of the apartments, was not much of an impediment and he was soon on the stairs, moving up at a rate that would have shocked anyone still awake to see him.
Reaching Buffy’s floor, he double checked the apartment number on the paper and went directly to her door. Where he stood for several long minutes, just staring at it, his hand resting on the doorknob, until it was flung open to reveal a pajama-clad Buffy clutching a stake.
“What kind of idiot vampire wakes the Slayer up in the middle of the— Oh.”
“Just the usual idiot, love.” Spike held out the bag he was holding. “Housewarming gift?”
Buffy reached through the barrier and took the bag and the bottle of wine it contained from him. She stared at him, the corners of her mouth twitching at his unsure expression.
“Well, I guess if we’re going to drink this, we shouldn’t do it in the hallway.” She turned around and walked away, throwing over her shoulder, “Come in, Spike.”
With a sigh of relief he stepped through, closing the door behind him. He stood, irresolute, until Buffy said with some impatience, “Well, take your coat off. Or are you just going to stand there all night?”
Without response, he shrugged his coat off and dropped it on a chair near the door, then moved to the small galley kitchen where Buffy was looking for something to open the bottle of wine he’d brought.
“Don’t have to drink it now, pet. If you’d rather save it for an occasion of some sort…”
Buffy’s eyes flew to his. “I have an apartment of my own finally – and you’re in it. That’s not an occasion?” She waved the corkscrew in the air to emphasize her point.
“When you put it that way….” He walked around the narrow counter and took the corkscrew from her. “I seem to remember you aren’t very good at this. Let me do it for you, yeah?”
“I could have done it,” she said, her lip almost making it into a pout.
“Know you could, Slayer. But the object is to still have a bottle left when the cork comes out.” He smirked at her and skillfully removed the cork, setting it on the table. “See?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Remind me again why I invited you in?”
He just smiled and began opening cabinet doors until he found the glasses. He raised one eyebrow as he held two wine glasses up. At her nod, he poured some in each glass and handed one to Buffy.
“To your new home and life, pet,” he toasted, waiting for her to touch her glass to his before drinking.
“Yay me,” she agreed, taking a small swallow and walking to the couch. She sat on one end and watched as he lost his confidence briefly. When he didn’t move, she nodded toward the other end of the couch. “Sit down, Spike. It makes me nervous when you just stand around.”
“I make you nervous? Since when?”
“Since I never know if or when I’m ever going to see you again,” she snapped. “If you’re not sitting, it… it makes me think you want to leave already.” His eyes grew wide and she swallowed hard. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?” she whispered, her eyes flying to his. He was staring back at her with astonishment and just a trace of hope, his mouth open and his eyes bulging. Who knew eyes could really do that?
“I… I didn’t mean… it’s just that you were gone so long this time and I….”
“’S alright, pet,” he said gruffly, his expression settling back into the hard-to-read face that was all he’d shown her since arriving in the nick of time with his ship and its crew of bugs. “I’m not making it… anything.” He took a deep breath while Buffy buried her face in her wine glass. “Didn’t mean to be gone so long. Ran into a bit of trouble and had to go hide on the other side of the moon for a while. Came back as soon as it was safe to—” He bit off what he was going to say, taking large swallows of his own drink.
Seeing that they had both emptied their glasses, Buffy grabbed them and went to the kitchen, covering her nervousness by pouring more wine and staring at the kitchen counter. When she couldn’t avoid it any longer, she walked back and handed him his glass before returning to her seat on the other end of the small sofa.
“So, what were you running from? Can I kill it?”
He smiled at her. “Appreciate the offer, pet, but I handled it already. That’s one vamp won’t be plotting world ending any time soon.”
“World endage? Vamp plotting? Why didn’t I know about this?”
“Was gonna bring you in, but I thought I could handle it myself. Did alright, too, until somebody ratted me out. Still managed to kill the bugger, but his minions were right brassed off, so I had to disappear long enough for them to lose interest.”
“And did they? Lose interest?”
“Mostly. By the time I’ve killed a few more, they’ll all see the error of their ways and leave me alone.”
“Why didn’t you want me to help you?” Buffy’s voice was soft and uncertain. “Did you think I’d screw it up like I—”
“Bloody hell, Slayer! When are you going to get over beating yourself up over that mess your ex got you into? You did what you always do – the best you could.” His voice softened. “Please, love. Tell me you aren’t going to keep blaming yourself for doing what you had to do.”
She peered at him. “I didn’t have to have epic space—”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d just as soon believe you didn’t have a choice,” he growled. “And I don’t want to talk about it. Ever.”
Buffy shrugged. “Fine. It’s not my favorite topic of conversation either.” She swallowed some more wine, seeking to come up with a conversation topic that wouldn’t lead to another uncomfortable silence. Remembering her latest run-in with a powerless witch and her untrained slayer partner, Buffy sighed.
“But that’s not all that’s wrong. All those girls I made slayers without asking them—they… they hate me.” She stood up and threw her arms into the air. “They keep trying to fight me! Like they think just being strong means they…” She stopped and her shoulders slumped. “I’m not supposed to hurt humans, Spike. Unless they’re really, really evil.”
“If they’re tryin’ to hurt you, Buffy, they are evil.”
She fell back onto the couch, closer to him and resting her head on the cushion. “No, they aren’t evil. They’re just really unhappy about not having been given a choice.” She shook her head. “I can’t fault them for that. I’d feel the same way. I did feel the same way when I was first called. I was all ‘Why me?’ and ‘I don’t wanna do this’.”
“But you did do it, love. And you did it better than any slayer ever has. These spoiled bints just need to suck it up.”
Buffy rolled her head over to smile at him. “Always on my side, aren’t you?”
“Always,” he agreed, smiling back. “’less, of course, you’re publicly shagging—never mind.”
“Thought you didn’t want to talk about that.”
“Don’t. Just pops into my head sometimes.” He turned his head away so she couldn’t see his face, flinching when she touched his arm.
“I’m… I mean, I know you know I’m sorry it happened… But I’m really, really sorry that you had to… know about it.”
“Didn’t ‘know’ about it. I saw and heard it,” he gritted out. “Just like everybody else in the bloody world.”
Her anger rising to match his, she snapped, “Well, that makes us even then, doesn’t it?”
“Even?” Spike’s roar was so loud she put her hand over his mouth, removing it the instant he got quiet. “Even?” he repeated more quietly, his eyes flickering yellow.
“Have you forgotten the little performance you and Anya put on in the Magic Box? How do you think I felt then? All my friends and my little sister watching you—”
Spike shook her off and stood up, holding up a hand and counting on his fingers: “A – you broke up with me. Told me to move on, as I recall. B – your friends had no idea we were… whatever the hell we were. So no humiliation factor there. C – Didn’t know there were cameras. Never meant for anyone to see or hear it. And D – Wouldn’t have done it if I’d had any idea you would know… or care. “ He looked at his hands and held up the rest of his fingers. “I’m sure there’s a lot more alphabet to cover, just can’t think of it right now.”
Buffy jumped to her feet, her own eyes flashing. “Fine! A – I had no idea where you were. Hadn’t heard from you since you pulled Sunnydale down around your ears. B – You couldn’t be bothered telling me you were alive when you came back, so why should I think you’d care if I… and C… C… there was gold, misty stuff involved….”
They stood a few inches apart, breathing hard and glaring at each other until Spike’s face broke into a reluctant smile.
“God, I’ve missed this,” he said, brushing a hand over her head. “Nobody can make me as mad as you can.”
“Right back atcha,” she said, shaking her head and smiling back at him. “I think I’ve missed it too. It feels good.”
Realizing how close they were standing at the same time, they each dropped their eyes and turned away. There was another uncomfortable silence that lasted until Spike cleared his throat.
“Guess I’d better let you get your sleep, yeah?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Her eyes went to his. “Where’s your ship?”
“It’s still on the roof of the Bit’s building. It’s a good place for it. Nice and flat and it’s hardly visible behind the mechanical stuff. I’ll check this roof out tomorrow night, but I don’t mind the walk.”
“So, you’re coming back tomorrow?” Buffy’s voice was deliberately casual.
“If you want me to, love. Might go with on patrol. Watch your back? It’ll be like old times.”
“I’d like that,” she said softly.
“Then that’s what we’ll do.” He picked up his coat and paused at the door. “Good night, Buffy.”
“Good night, Spike.” After a brief hesitation, they both stepped away from their own side of the door so that Buffy could shut it. She leaned her head against the door; on the other side, Spike rested his head against it briefly, then shook himself and headed for the stairs. Inside, Buffy slid the locks in place and went back to her bedroom, turning off the lights as she went.