Chapter 18
Buffy slowly opened her eyes and groaned when her head started throbbing. Her eyes stung from the fluorescent lights in the room she awakened in and she slowly sat up before she remembered what had just happened. She bolted up from a black leather couch and as soon as she had, someone gripped her by the arms and halted her movements.
“Easy, tiger. Calm down.”
Clenching her teeth she turned around and said, “Don’t touch me!”
Angel raised his hands defensively and tilted his head. “Sorry…you just knocked your head pretty good there. I carried you back here after Giles came to get the urn. Don’t want you getting all woozy on me again so just take it easy.”
“Where is he?”
“Who, Giles?”
“You know who! Where is Spike? Tell me he was there and that I didn’t make this up!”
“Yeah, he was,” he answered cautiously, “but I figured you didn’t want to see him so I told him to leave you alone for a while and he left.”
“You figured…” her mouth opened and closed as her anger bubbled inside her and she took a deep breath before continuing. “What do you mean you figured I wouldn’t want to see him?”
“Well, come on,” he shrugged. “It’s Spike.”
Hard, heavy breaths rushed in and out of her mouth as she tried to wrap her mind around the craziness that was her life. First of all, what the hell, Spike was alive? Second of all, where the heck was she? “Where the heck am I?”
“My office. Pretty sweet, right? Look, check this out,” he said excitedly and jogged over to the far corner of his office and pressed a button, revealing a secret door once a part of the wall slid to the side. “I have a secret door!”
“Angel!” she shouted with her eyes closed and her hands pressed against her forehead. “It’s great that you’ve been living in Bruce Wayne’s manor and everything, but would you mind telling me what the hell is going on?!”
“Uh,” he fidgeted with a really awesome paperweight that he was about to show her. It had freaking shurikens in it! Buffy would have thought that was cool! But apparently, she was in one of her freak-out moods and he decided to tread lightly. “What exactly do you want to know?”
She sighed deeply and looked at him with exhaustion. “How about…how the hell Spike is alive?”
“Oh, that,” he said with a frown and sat down on the edge of his desk, releasing the paperweight to show her another time. “It’s a funny story.”
“I’m not in the mood to laugh,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Well,” he cleared his throat and stretched his neck, “uh, so it turns out I get this package a few months ago and that charm that I gave you? The one that Spike wore?”
“Yeah?” her foot tapped impatiently on the floor when she crossed her arms.
“Well, it was in there. As soon as I pulled it out, Spike appeared out of thin air.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” she lifted a hand in the air, suddenly angry at not one, but two vampires. “You mean to tell me he’s been alive for months?”
“But he was incorporeal for a while. Like a ghost. He couldn’t even touch anything, could walk through walls…and he was trapped here, too.”
“And you didn’t think to pick up a phone and…I don’t know, call me?” She was really pissed now, her hand automatically going to her left pocket to retrieve the crystal she had stored there to help calm her down before she was standing in front of a pile of vampire dust.
“Well, I didn’t think you’d care. He wanted to…but you had so much going on in Rome that I just assumed…”
And there was the real answer. Always with the assumptions! Never asking, never taking the steps to see if she cared or not, just making decisions for her. Plus, she’d only been in Rome for a week and that was to help Dawn move into her apartment when she started school! It only showed how little Angel paid attention to detail when it came to her life. She could see why Spike would have kept to himself with Angel feeding him this line of bullshit, not to mention his stupid stubborn ass thinking that she didn’t love him. She was about to combust with rage.
“I can’t believe you,” she said in a scarily calm voice and walked towards him, her grip around the crystal in her left hand tightening, whitening her knuckles. “Do you have any idea what I’ve gone through this past year? Do you?”
“Buffy, calm down.”
“Don’t you tell me to calm down!” she shouted, every muscle in her body tensing in restraint. “Do you have any idea what I just went through because I thought Spike was dead? What I went through to get that urn to clean up your mess?”
“I didn’t ask you to help me,” he said angrily, starting to get defensive when she loomed over him and he stood up to gain the upper ground. “Look, I get that you’re pissed off but I didn’t do anything to you, Buffy. I didn’t call for help and I certainly didn’t need it.”
“Oh, really,” she narrowed her eyes. “You think that you and the blue haired genie, your unconscious friend and Spike could have taken on that apocalypse by yourselves?”
“Maybe not, but we would have died fighting!”
“That is the stupidest, most machismo, ignorant thing I’ve ever heard! You brought on the apocalypse! You did, Angel! But it’s ok because you would have died fighting it? What about after you were all inevitably killed? And you so would have been! What about all these people who would have had to deal with the consequences of your actions, huh? Did you even think about that?”
Angel’s head sharply turned away from her and he clenched his jaw. “I couldn’t stop it, Buffy. You don’t understand! You haven’t been here!”
“You’re right,” she said with a bitter smile. “I haven’t. Want to know why? Because you’re an asshole!” She’d shouted so loud, clenched the crystal so hard that it shattered in her hand, a puff of black smoke wafted from her fist unknowingly as her body shook with fury, her hard green eyes staring down her ex-lover.
In a tavern sixteen blocks away from Wolfram & Hart, a sullen vampire who’d spent the better half of a year convincing himself that he’d never be with the woman he loved, sulked and smoked and sighed as he thought of how just moments ago, he’d seen her in the flesh, looking as gorgeous as ever, risking her neck to save their sorry asses for the millionth time. As much as it pained him to reminisce on things long over with, he couldn’t help but love her, couldn’t stop as much as he tried. What could he say to her now after all this time had passed? Would she even give a toss about him? Was he wasting his time even thinking about it, again?
He brought a highball glass of whiskey to his lips and sipped, choking on it as his body shook with a charge of something, a pain similar to the days when he had his chip. He slammed his glass down and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself on the bar with his trembling hands as a multitude of memories washed over him; memories of a time long past, of a time he rarely thought about any more, pictures and sensations, emotions and experiences that were so vivid, so real, that they seemed like they’d happened only days ago, not decades. Images and retellings of a time that could have only stemmed from his innermost fantasies, bombarding him, taunting him: wishes that he’d always had suddenly breathing with life. His eyes shot open and he stared at the bar in disbelief. What cruel joke were the powers playing on him now? It wasn’t possible, was it?
Had Buffy really…there was no bloody way. It was too perfect, much too close to the hopes and dreams of the sad git he’d always been, the romantic that he’d always wanted to be for her, the lover, the friend, the companion. If that wasn’t enough to convince him that it was all a sick fabrication, then the copious amounts of sex he’d just remembered surely were. As a human, he never would have done those things, would he? Well, Spike definitely would have, would have made it a bit nastier at certain bits, but the point was, William was a prat who didn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground when it came to women.
And yet, he couldn’t deny the overwhelming sensation of complete and utter school boy giddiness that he felt as soon as the memories seeped into him, trudged through the inner workings of his mind to lock and click into place like missing puzzle pieces, couldn’t stop the warmth that spread through his limbs as he remembered her saying, “I love you,” over and over again, at different times and different places. And she’d meant it.
She’d meant it!
Not even counting the wad of bills he threw onto the bar to pay for his drink, Spike jumped off his stool and ran outside, ignoring the curious glances of the establishment’s patrons who’d wondered why the Billy Idol look-alike was laughing and crying at the same time like a crazy person. He didn’t care, didn’t care that it was pouring rain outside, didn’t give a flying fuck about anything but finding the beautiful blonde slayer that he’d missed desperately for months and when he did, he’d hold her captive until she told him that he was either imagining things or that one of the weirdest days of his life had suddenly turned into an answer to his bloody prayers.
“Would you please lower your voice? I’m right here!”
“Does it look like I care?!” She was angrier than he’d ever seen her before. Her face was red and twitching, her eyes narrowed and focused, ready for the kill, every muscle in her body flexing and begging to be put to good use and for all his enhanced strength and demonic abilities, Angel cowered in fear at the slayer that stood before him.
“Buffy,” he said quietly, “let’s talk about this,” he backed away from her slowly when she started… “Did you just growl at me?”
“Tell me where he went.”
“I don’t know, Buffy! He probably went to drink himself into a stupor. He’s been really good about dri—” Angel suddenly flew into the wall five feet behind him, staring at the slayer in disbelief that she’d decked him in the jaw. And it really, really hurt. “What the hell was that for?”
“I’ll never be your cookies!” she shouted and dashed out of the room into the foyer of Angel’s office level, taking a moment to find the elevators. Once she’d located them, she pressed the down button repeatedly and impatiently until a lift was available. She didn’t know how she’d find Spike, but she’d search the entire city for him if she had to.
She ran outside into the rain and tried to get her bearings. Everything to the left was office buildings, to the right were a few restaurants, behind her were apartment buildings and in front was a car dealership. “Stupid California zoning laws! Can’t you make anything relatively easy?” She decided to go right and started jogging down the street, looking at various buildings to see if she’d found a bar. Her hand started to sting and she stopped check on it. Tiny slivers of the crystal were imbedded into her palm and she winced as she pulled them loose and dropped them onto the ground, then brought her hand to her mouth to try and stop the bleeding. Her eyes widened when she finally realized what she’d done.
“Oh my God…” the shards had turned white, releasing the magic from within them. With a hopeful and slightly energized expression, Buffy ran, her quest to find Spike becoming the only thing that mattered. She practically plowed into some guy holding an umbrella as she turned a corner.
Apologizing profusely for her clumsiness, she decided to make the best out of the situation, regardless of his annoyed scowling. Shivering from the cold rain and hugging herself she said, “I’m looking for a friend of mine. Can you tell me where the closest tavern is?”
Slightly irritated, yet feeling a twinge of compassion for the soaked girl with chattering teeth, he said, “There’s a sports bar a few blocks from here. Shamrock’s or something.”
“No, not a sports bar. He’d never go to a place like that. Maybe a seedier place? Like a dive bar or something?”
“There’s Mike’s Bar, but that’s pretty far.”
Hopping from foot to foot to keep her blood pumping, unknowingly splashing his trousers when she hopped in a puddle she said, “Doesn’t matter. Where is it?”
He spouted off the directions and without waiting to thank him, she took off running. She’d gone six blocks and turned left as the man instructed, slowing down when she saw someone running towards her. She flipped her sodden hair out of her eyes and squinted, smiling beatifically when she realized it was Spike. He’d stopped several yards away from her and then slowly, tentatively walked towards her.
“I was lookin’ for you,” he mumbled, twisting his head around, glancing casually at the building they’d stopped in front of as if he hadn’t just been running his ass off moments ago to find her. He looked at her finally and tilted his head, studying her red rimmed eyes and beautiful smile. “Buffy?”
“You remember,” she whispered.
He exhaled a pained, shuddering sigh of relief before inhaling again as his emotions got the better of him. After a hundred and twenty years of absolute loneliness, a hundred and twenty years of waiting, hoping, wishing to be loved, a hundred and twenty years spent walking in darkness, he finally got his wish, finally emerged from the shadows into her warm light, had it hand delivered to him in a soaking package on the corner of Olive and 8th Street, looking at him with those eyes of hers that had haunted his dreams for years, smiling as if he were the only thing that existed, crying because she’d finally found him, too.
Without speaking, he grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and tugged her forward, crashing his lips against hers, swallowing both of their moans of liberation, dropping his hand to bring his arms around her, never wanting to let go, thanking whoever was responsible for allowing him the pleasure of her lips, her body, her tears. She’d pressed the entire length of her body against him, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, raked her hands in his hair and kissed him harder, sank into his snug embrace and cried into his mouth, neither of them unable to stop touching, squeezing, tasting one another.
God, the feel of him, his passion, his love, his inability to keep still as he frantically moved his hands and lips over every available inch of her that she offered, it was almost painful how much she needed it, needed that reassurance that he was there. His hands moved from her back to her cheeks, wiping her soaked tresses away to kiss her there, drink the rain water from her throat, sup from her wonderful lips once more.
“It was real,” he said with a strained voice, not even caring any longer that he was crying like an idiot. He’d just been made the happiest man on earth and sod the prick who’d mock him for feeling so luminously grateful for the woman in his arms.
“Yes,” she sobbed, staring into his eyes that were always so expressive, still unable to believe that he wasn’t dead, that he was here, kissing her like the world was about to end. Even though he remembered her saying it before, she had to say it now. “I love you, Spike.”
His jaw ticked and his nostrils flared as he tried to ward off another wave of tears but it was fruitless and the feelings he’d repressed for so long bubbled out of his throat. She smiled at him, running her hands over his cheeks, his forehead, his neck and shoulders, needing to reassure both of them that this was really happening. It was then that he inhaled sharply and said, “You’re bleeding.”
She pulled her left hand away from him when she realized she’d been rubbing blood on his cheeks but luckily the pouring rain was taking care of the mess she’d made. “I forgot about that,” she said softly, opening her palm and watching the rain rinse away the fresh blood that continued to seep from the various gashes on her skin. She looked at Spike and raised her hand to his mouth without a thought.
Spike was taken aback by her offer but she merely stood there smiling like an angel and bringing her hand closer. He held her hand in his, the hand that was covered in faded scars from the burning soul of a dying vampire, now oozing with her blood from the release of his past. He swiped his tongue over it slowly, relishing the first taste of her. She shivered, this time not from the cold rain but from the shooting pangs of desire that his tongue elicited with every tender lick. His free hand wrapped around her waist and he held her against him, keeping his eyes on hers as he sealed her wounds shut.
She was seconds away from tearing his clothes off and making a spectacle of herself but then he lowered his brows in confusion as if he’d tasted something suspicious. Then he seemed to grow angry and backed away from her suddenly and dropped her hand, his eyes on the verge of changing color but he managed to fight off the demon inside him.
“What? What is it?” she was panicking, afraid that she’d done something wrong.
“Who’s the lucky bloke this month, Slayer?”
She frowned in misunderstanding. “What are you talking about?”
He sighed in frustration and wished it wasn’t raining so bloody hard so he could smoke. “Who’s the last person you shagged?” he said slowly, his chin quivering just a bit as he tried to reel in his resentment.
“Oh,” she laughed, sighing in relief. “You. Well, William…but yeah. In fact, I hadn’t slept with anyone before William since…well, since that one time when Riley walked in on us. God, I went a long time without having…never mind. Just you.”
If he could have turned any paler, he would have, but as it was, he merely stared at her with his slack jawed expression, his ire melting instantly as he started to realize something that would have been an impossible feat had she not traveled back in time.
“Why are you freaking out?” she walked up to him again and put her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek, shaking him a bit to snap him out of it.
And then he was crying; big, fat, happy tears as he embraced her and kissed her once more, pressing his mouth against hers almost painfully hard, his hands clutching her tight. “Un-bloody-believable,” he smiled as he hugged her. “Someone’s gonna dust me tomorrow, I know it. Unbelievable.”
“Spike, what’s the deal?”
He sighed, unable to stop grinning and he rocked her from side to side blissfully, biting his lip as he stared down at her. “Buffy, you’re pregnant.”
Her eyes were alight with shock and she backed away with a gasp. “What? No, no! There’s no way! This is me, being not pregnant!”
Still grinning, he cupped the side of her face and said, “Yes, you are. I tasted it.”
“How did you…” Buffy was utterly confused. She’d only had sex with Spike! Well, William but that was… “Ohhhhh…”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Oh is bloody right. Human sex doesn’ come with the luxury of not needin’ protection, pet.”
“Oh my God!” her hands flew to her cheeks and she stared at him as realization sunk in. “But that means that you’re…and I’m…oh my God! Wait, how did you know?”
Christ, she was adorable. He grasped her wrists and pulled her back to where she belonged, against him with her arms around his neck. He kissed her throat and then said, “Can taste all sorts of things in blood, Buffy. Disease, if you’ve been drinkin’ or doin’ somethin’ worse, your heightened emotions, your power…the list goes on an’ on but I’d rather not talk of that right now when I’ve got the woman I love pressed against me. The woman carrying my child, no less,” he beamed.
Buffy looked at him in awe, unable to comprehend the idea that she was going to have a family, something she never thought possible with her duty, something that should never have been possible with the vampire she loved. It was a final gift from William, the side of Spike that would always be inside him and it only made her love him more, the demon, the man, the father of her child. “I love you,” she swallowed as she started crying again, “so much.”
“I know,” he smiled warmly and kissed her sweetly, wrapping her up in his arms while the rain poured down on them, mingling with the flavor of her lips and washing away the tears they were both through shedding. “If I don’ have you writhin’ beneath me in the comfort of a warm bed soon, I might be takin’ you up against a building and doing somethin’ naughty.”
She giggled and slid her hands down his chest, pressing her hips against his and wiggling them a bit in excitement. “Where’s your place?”
He moaned happily as she pressed against his erection, running his hands down her arms. “Uh…it’s a bit trashed at the mo’.”
“My hotel room it is, then. Five blocks behind us and five blocks to the right. Should we call for a taxi?”
He was already scooping her up in his arms and running. “Already soaked to the bone an’ I’m not waitin’ for a bloody cab.”
She laughed as he ran down the street, carrying her like a newlywed. Neither of them could stop grinning and probably wouldn’t for days. How it had happened this way, Buffy would never know, but she was beyond words, too emotional to even think of how everything unfolded so beautifully. She had him. Finally, she had him and there wasn’t a thing in the world that could keep her from him now. She lurched forward to kiss him, bouncing in his arms as he kept running, keeping his eyes open to see where they were going, not wanting to stop until they’d reached their destination but needing her lips on his all the same.
For as long as he lived, Spike would never forget this moment, never forget the feeling of completion and love that washed over him like a tender caress when his slayer said those three little words, never forget what she’d given him over a century ago, what she was giving him now.