CHAPTER TEN

“Buffy! Hey, wait up!”

The girl in question turned, juggling the bags she was carrying so she could stop and stand comfortably. Xander was coming up to her, alert but without the usual goofy grin. She couldn’t help but sigh slightly, sitting down on the nearest bench.

“Hey, Xand, what are you doing here?” She asked as he joined her. “Aren’t you supposed to be being all construct-y today?”

“Ah, but that’s the beauty of being crew manager,” he responded sagely. “I gave the crew the afternoon off.”

Buffy gave him a small smile, eyes flicking towards his watch. Twelve forty-six. She’d been gone from the house for almost two and a half hours. She’d changed as per Dawn’s request, trading the sweater for a plain white tee and adding a pair of light blue Converse high tops. Not a huge step up, but she really didn’t feel like worrying about clothes today. She had more important things to worry about. She could see Xander giving a cursory assessment, but thankfully he had enough tact not to ask about her wardrobe.

“So why aren’t you crashing right now? Shouldn’t you be dead to the world, comfy in bed?” She adjusted the bags in her lap.

“Wonders of Red Bull,” Xander explained tiredly. “I’m too alert to sleep, and too tired to work... or visit the Magic Box. Safer to be at the mall until the energy dies out. Then, I’m sleeping for a week.”

Buffy nodded in agreement.

“So, how was, uh... last night?”

“You mean this morning?” Buffy corrected with a yawn. “Strange.”

She was happy enough to leave it at that, but off Xander’s look, she sighed and continued.

“You dropped us off, I took him inside, cleaned him up and then we slept.”

“’We’?” Xander repeated suspiciously, “As in together?”

She rolled her eyes. “As in, he slept in the bed and I slept separately on the floor. No bed-sharing of any kind.”

“You gave him your bed?”

God, there is no pleasing him, is there? Buffy grouched to herself, brushing hair out of her eyes. She was too tired to defend what were completely rational actions. “Yes, I gave him my bed. I was too tired to set up the cot and I felt sorry for the guy who saved my eyesight and my life, so I slept on the floor instead of making him do it.”

Xander’s expression didn’t soften. In fact, he was wearing something akin to disgust. “Not guy, Buff. Vampire.”

Their voices had risen during the conversation, and she glared at him, before smiling at an older woman who was staring at them curiously. “Would you keep your voice down, someone is going to hear you!”

He rolled his eyes, but he lowered his voice. “He’s not some guy, Buffy, whether he saved you or not. He’s a vampire.”

“Whatever.”

And with that, Buffy stood, gathered her bags and left.

 
*                              *                              *                              *                              *                              *                              *
 

Buffy parked the car, grateful that her mother had let her borrow her jeep. She was back in the familiar driveway of 1630 Rovello Drive, and she switched off the ignition, glancing through the review mirror at the backseat, which was littered with bags of supplies. She’d spent a good deal of her own money- plus the fifty her mother had insisted she take on the way out- on clothes, refills for her first aid kit and bags
of blood of the pig variety from the local butcher’s.

It was funny that the butcher gave no thought to people buying mass amounts of pig’s blood in Sunnydale, she thought absently. He’d given her a strange, judging look when she’d asked for it, but asked if she was friend of “that blonde, leather-head” and handed it right over when she’d answered the affirmative. He’d even charged her less because he was such a regular customer.

Her hands still gripped the steering wheel, and her eyes itched with the lack of sleep she was suffering. She felt drawn, tired and weak. She’d felt like this since Riley had left for the jungles in the middle of who-knows-where... hell, since her mother had fallen ill, and the events of the night before had magnified that to the point of exhaustion, even sickness.

She swallowed hard, trying to rid herself of the bad taste that had suddenly made itself known in her mouth, only to find herself trying to dislodge the lump that formed. Her eyes stared forward, unfocused, and she set her jaw. How did all this happen? Everything was falling apart, Dawn and the Glory problem, her Mom’s shadow, Riley leaving, and now Spike...

She wasn’t sure how much more she could take. Xander was obviously having problems with her decision, despite his vote of support the night before, and it was making her wonder whether her other friends felt the same way, if Giles did. She wasn’t sure she could get through what needed to be done without Willow and Giles to help find a way to fix the problem, and every little insecurity was weighing her down until her very self felt heavy.

She just wanted everything to go back to normal.

Buffy leaned forward, resting her head between her hands, her forehead touching the steering wheel she was still gripping tightly. She closed her eyes, and sobs came racking through her chest, tears spilling out over her cheeks for the second time in less than twelve hours.

Her hands fell uselessly to her sides, but her head remained where it was, and her sobs doubled ripping at her throat and throbbing against her ribs and sternum. She sat there for what could have been a long time, or maybe only moments, crying into her steering wheel.

And while she didn’t know it, Spike sat inside on the couch, and while Dawn chattered awkwardly beside him, he listened to her cry.