Chapter 10
Buffy woke up frustrated. They’d all gone to bed soon after she and Spike came back in. She’d set Willow up in her room and pulled out the sofa-bed for Giles. She glanced at the clock and found it was only just past midnight. She turned over to watch Spike sleep.
She had told him that she didn’t think they should make love again until he believed her, until he knew she loved him. She’d done it for him; she didn’t want him thinking that she was using him, again. She’d wanted him to know that she was willing to wait until he was ready for a change, but he hadn’t looked too pleased. He’d shrugged and nodded and then she’d asked if it would still be okay for her to sleep there with him. When he agreed she’d crawled into the bed and they had lain on their separate sides for several minutes before he groaned and pulled her towards him. He’d spooned her, curling his body around her own, and nuzzled her neck.
“Ok?” he’d asked quietly and she had snuggled closer in response. They’d both soon fallen asleep; exhausted from the emotional roller coaster they’d ridden all evening.
But now, only a few hours later, Buffy was awake again. She was frustrated and she was angry. With herself mostly, she acknowledged. She needed to get rid of some energy. Quietly, so as not wake Spike, she slid out of bed and pulled on a sweatshirt and a pair of sneakers. A moment later she gently shut the front door and began jogging towards the only cemetery she’d seen since coming to town. With any luck, she thought, she’d find something other than herself to fight with.
Ten minutes later Spike woke trembling. He sat up quickly, his breath coming in hard pants and his hands gripping the sheets tightly.
“Whoa.”
It had been a familiar nightmare and yet different. He’d had dreams, or memories really, about his victims many times since getting his soul back. Hell, he’d had them a few times before the soul, if he were honest. But he was always himself in those dreams; he relived moments from his own perspective. Sure he didn’t always feel like the same person, he often pleaded helplessly with that Spike to stop, but he was looking through his own eyes and feeling with his own hands. This time he’d been her; this time he’d watched himself through her eyes. He was the little Chinese slayer and not the monster that killed her. He’d heard her thoughts and understood her words. He knew that her final thoughts had been of regret, guilt and her mother. He knew that she had taken no pleasure from the fight; it was a duty, an honor even, but never a joy. And when he died by his own hands and fangs, he became another girl fighting the same fight with a different but same monster. But then he wasn’t the girl anymore; he was no one. He was outside watching in, and she was there, and she was hurt, and he woke up.
“Buffy”
He knew without looking that she wasn’t there, that she wasn’t in the house even, though he couldn’t have explained how he knew. It was just a sense. He felt alone, incomplete even, when she wasn’t close. Probably has to do with that whole soul claim mumbo jumbo, he thought getting out of bed. He’d left his jeans on in deference to her ‘let’s not have sex’ plan, so he quickly grabbed a shirt and slid on his boots. He bent his head from side to side, stretching his neck, and headed downstairs.
He moved quietly into the living room and stood still for a moment watching the watcher. The other man hadn’t moved, but Spike knew he was awake.
“How long?”
“Perhaps ten minutes.” He opened his eyes.
“Which way?”
“I think she headed towards Northwood Cemetery, probably just patrolling.”
“Right.” Spike headed towards the door.
“Spike, I rather think…” Giles sat up as the door shut and sighed. “Guess it really doesn’t matter what I think.”
He reached over, felt for his glasses and turned on the lamp. Sitting up, he acknowledged the inevitable feelings of jealousy that now peppered all of his encounters with Spike. It wasn’t his relationship with Buffy, though the loss of their former closeness still stung. No, it was the freedom with which the other man lived. Spike, he’d often thought, did and said whatever he was feeling. It was like he lived without an internal filter, and no matter how many stupid things he did, it always seemed to work out for him. And that, Giles thought with frown, was truly irritating. Certainly he too wanted to follow Buffy. He wanted to make sure she was safe, but he held himself back. He waited.
“What’s going on? I heard the door.”
Giles was startled to find Willow standing in front of him; he hadn’t even heard her coming down the stairs.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Buffy I believe decided to go patrolling and Spike has chased after her.”
“Oh, so things are getting back to normal.” She smiled.
He let out a small chuckle. “Yes, in a way I suppose…”
“So what’s with the frown-face?”
Giles sighed and shook his head. “I’m not entirely certain that normal is possible under these circumstances nor am I at all convinced that this is a normal we ought to…”
“She looked good though, didn’t she?”
“What?”
“Buffy. She looked better. Spike made her look better.”
“Perhaps, but…”
“He loves her.” She shrugged, not sure what else to say.
Giles nodded. That was an increasingly hard fact to dispute.
“And he’s human now…” Willow grinned impishly. “Which makes him about the most normal guy Buffy’s ever dated.”
Giles looked up. “Well yes, that does put this in perspective some doesn’t it…at least she hasn’t…”
“Found another vampire.” She finished his sentence with a giggle.
Giles suddenly remembered the day Buffy told him that she’d been sleeping with Spike and was once again brought to laughter.