CHAPTER THREE

"I want to talk about this resouled vampire thing," said Spike. "When you started writing me letters, you thought I was in hell, out of reach. I think you idealized the dead me. Now you've got to throw out the white-knight version of me in your head that saved the world and burned up. You follow?"

"I'm not sure I agree," Buffy said cautiously.

"Hear me out 'til the end. In that dungeon today, I think you saw I'm not a white knight, 'cause one of those wouldn't have twisted up your insides about Alison. No, wait." Spike put up a cautionary hand as Buffy began protesting. All I'm saying is you're remembering the good things about Sunnydale and me while forgetting the bad."

"I love you," she said through gritted teeth. "Are you going to say that I don't again?"

"No." Leaning forward, he braced his elbows on his knees. "What did you miss of me, and who am I really?"

She threw him a look reminiscent of confused-Joyce. "What huh?"

"Who am I now that I have a soul?" Spike pursued.

"You're the man that I love."

"No, Buffy. I'm a vampire with a soul who's trying to be a man. If I can. Do you love me, or do you love what I did for you back in the hellmouth?"

She gasped. "How can you even ask me that?"

"Have to ask because you said the best night of my life--that night you let me help and hold you--it didn't mean anything. You weren't ready to see me gone, but that didn't mean you wanted me to stay."

"I want you to stay now," she said quietly.

"Where, Buffy?"

"Please don't do this."

"Don't do what, Slayer? Don't ask the tough questions? Don't look for the answers we can both live with?"

"I understand that you...we...need time to adjust to your having a soul. That you need to find out who you are. I want to be there for you. I want us to be together whether we're here in London or in Bath or in Timbuktu. I don't care."

He peered across the Tower green where the shadows were growing longer. "You know, Slayer, doesn't matter how many times we've had sex or fought side by side or whatever. You and I together is something that's never been."

He thought she started to reach out to him, but instead Buffy slid her hands beneath her to sit on them. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that being together is your telling Rupert and your friends that we're together. It means committing to each other, Buffy. And that...that's—" Giving a sad smile, he muttered, "It's somewhere we've never gone."

"But we're there now," she protested, her chin trembling. "I'm beside you right now, and I want to be with you. So what am I doing wrong?"

"Not doing anything wrong. We're talking things through." He smoothed a tear from her cheek. "Don't cry, Buffy. I can bear anybody's tears but yours."

Ducking her head, she swiped at the wetness. "I didn't used to cry all the damn time. What do you mean when you say we've never been together, and could you please hold me while you tell me?"

"Come here, pet." He settled her across his lap with her legs stretched out on the bench and wrapped his arms tightly around her. "Don't think we've sat like this since we were engaged under Red's spell."

"Bad us," she whispered, burrowing against him.

He kissed her forehead. "You and me, in the way you're wanting us to be now, hasn't ever been. Always did need me fighting and protecting the ones you love, but beyond that you haven't had much use for me. So now you say that you want to give us a try. I can still fight, but I don't know what else I can do. I'm trying to suss out who and what I am, now I've got my soul back. Am I a man or a demon or both, Buffy? Need to find out for both our sakes."

She nodded and watched him closely as though memorizing his every word. Guess my staring at her doesn't bother her now.

"We're outside the hellmouth now," Spike continued. "No ghoulies to distract us. No sisters to baby-sit and no slayerettes to train. It's going to be just you and me, if I'm reading this the way you want it?"

"Yes." She sounded determined.

"So we'll try us being together. Be just Buffy and whoever I end up being. We'll go slow and careful, get to know each other and see if we can stand each other. If we're each of us what the other wants."

"I can live with that." She snuggled against him with a relieved sigh. Her stomach rumbled, and Spike dared lay a hand across it.

"You hungry, pet?"

"Maybe a little. But I don't want to move. Am too comfy to move."

"No need." Sliding his arm beneath her, Spike rose with Buffy in his arms. Cradling her securely against him, he started off across the grass and gained the stone path.

"Spike!" The Slayer yelped. "What are you doing?"

"Carrying you off for a bit of kip." Spike headed with all haste toward the placard announcing the New Armouries Restaurant. "Never had restaurants in the Tower when I was here last."

Ignoring the gawkers as they crossed the green, Buffy wound her arms around his neck and nibbled his ear. Spike shivered.

"Here now. No distracting the transportation."

She giggled and hugged tightly. "I hesitate to ask when you were here last."

"Summer of 1879, I think it was."

Shoving open the restaurant door with his shoulder, Spike set Buffy carefully on her feet just inside the entry. "There you are. Safe and sound and look—there's a hot meal and tea waiting for us."

She glanced at the food only to turn back and throw her arms around his waist. Rocking back, Spike caught her hard and tried to take an unnecessary breath, only to discover that he was being held so tightly that breathing was impossible. "Here now, what's this?"

"Thank you for carrying me," she murmured against his chest, ignoring the tourists pushing past them in the small entry. "No matter what you say, I still think you're my white knight in black leather."

~ ~ ~

Buffy carried bits of leftover roast beef from her sandwich out of the restaurant and paused to peer up at the afternoon sky.

"No sun yet, and there are lots of clouds," she noted happily to the vampire sidling up beside her. "Do you think the Beefeaters will mind if I try to feed their ravens?"

"Won't mind. But you might when they start ripping off the tips of your fingers during snack-time. Be better off tossing the treats onto the grass and watching what happens."

"They're birds, Spike. Not sharks." With that, Buffy headed down the pavement and back to the iron bench she'd started thinking of as theirs. Nestled safely in shadow, it welcomed both vampire and Slayer once more. She spread her offerings on the far right side of the of the bench while Spike claimed his seat and looked on, amusement and contentment dancing in his eyes. Leaning against the vampire, Buffy waited.

"Here, birdy-birdy," she sang. "Are you sure they like roast beef?"

"They're carnivores on the wing, Slayer. Like anything long as it's not rotten."

She turned slightly toward him. "So, are we all talked out? Whoa." A black blur was flapping madly toward them across the green. "It's working!"

"Always did say be careful what you wish for, Slayer."

Buffy leaned harder against Spike and narrowly missed getting her nose thwacked by a wing as the raven hopped up onto the arm of the bench. Perched only a few inches away from her elbow, it looked from the roast beef to the Slayer, bird mantled its wings and opened its beak.

"Is he threatening to peck out my eyes?"

"Hardly. You're alive, not his type. Looks like a young bird, he's begging to be fed." Reaching across the Slayer, the vampire took up a piece of meat and held it over the raven's head. "Better I get bitten than you."

"The big black bird bites the big bad bitey vampire. Neat."

In the end, all Spike had to do was drop each offering inside the raven's open beak. "There you go, Blackie. You want to feed him the last bits?"

"No."

"Mighty Slayer will take on the armies of hell, but is afraid of a little raven?"

"He's got a very sharp beak and claws."

"I've got some very sharp fangs and a wicked wit. Never stopped you." Spike continued feeding the raven until all the roast beef was gone. Gathering up the napkin, he shoved it into his pocket. "Don't need to eat that."

The bird cleaned its beak on the arm of the bench and began preening its feathers.

"See now, he's making himself more presentable for you," said Spike. "Hand over your cell phone and let me take a picture. Send it off to Dawn, show her where you've been."

"Um, okay." Carefully, so as not to startle the bird, Buffy dug out her phone. "Good luck with the picture thing, it doesn't take very good ones. He'll probably fly away before you can do much."

"He'll stay to say thank you, won't you, mate?" Slipping off of the bench, Spike retreated a few feet before snapping off a picture. "Don't usually get to see them this up close and personal."

Almost on cue, the bird pulled out and discarded a glossy tail feather that floated toward Buffy. Reaching out, she caught it.

"Spike...Did you see that?" The feather rested across her hands.

"I did, pet. Got some shots of it, too."

Another raven called from across the green and Buffy's bird answered. Gifts and goodies exchanged, it flapped down onto the grass and headed past Spike.

Buffy stroked the still-warm feather. "Do you think he meant for me to have this?"

"Looks like." Closing the phone after taking a few more pictures of his Slayer, Spike sat back down on the bench.

She handed the feather to him. "You want to hold it?"

"Sure."

Taking back her cell phone, Buffy keyed through the photos. "My phone must like you because these are great. Which one should I send to Dawn?"

"That one."

She sent it off and tucked the phone back into her purse.

"You know, from ancient times ravens were thought to fly between the seen and unseen worlds. Between the darkness and the light," Spike commented, stroking the sleek, black feather. "They symbolize creation too, and you've come to England to create a new life."

Reaching up, she stroked his hair and kissed his cheek. "I think the raven gave his feather to both of us, because you've been walking with me there for years. And we're creating a new life together."

"I like the sound of that." Turning his head, he kissed her wrist. "You ready to leave the Tower, pet?"

"Yeah." Taking his hand, she let him pull her up from the bench. "Where are we going next?"

He thought for a moment as they headed for the exit. "British Museum, I think. Not enough time to see everything today, you'd need a week for that. Enough time for a couple of manuscripts and the mummies, maybe."

"Ooooh, sounds like fun. As long as the mummies don't try to strangle the odd Slayer."

"You're certainly that."

"Hey!" She shoved against him so that he staggered, taking her with him. Somehow, his arm ended up around her waist.

"Do you really think we can create a new life here? We won't have to go to Outer Mongolia or something?"

"If you can still stand me after my bloody little performance." Spike nodded back toward the torture exhibit.

"Everybody needs a hobby. It's not as if you locked them in and drained them one by one."

He tilted his head and regarded her for a long moment. "Had to be strange going through that with me. I mean, vampire and all. Nothing normal about me, you know? Or about what I did to those tourists."

"I think you did fine, you gave them the shivers." She traced his mouth with the feather. "Angel left Sunnydale because he wanted me to have a normal life. But a slayer can't have normal any more than you can. I don't want normal anyway. I want you--minus the caspie-claws and the thumbikins, if that's okay?"

"I don't know about that." Capturing her free hand, Spike nibbled the tips of her fingers. "Right tasty these are, pet."