Chapter 3: Flowers & Slime
Spike spent the next day pacing in his crypt, unable to find the sleep he needed so badly. Since getting his soul back, he hadn’t found much rest, haunted by thoughts of guilt and disgust toward himself. Haunted by her. He had been so sure that he had destroyed any possibility that she could ever like him again. Not even love, just like. Just tolerate. Just accept him in her life. And now, she had hinted that she could forget and forgive. She was giving him a chance. A chance of redemption, she had called it. To him it was much more, it was simply a chance to live again.
As soon as the sun disappeared below the horizon, he was out of his lair and striding through the cemetery. He briefly paused in front of a tomb, gauging the fresh bouquet of roses that was simply lying on the ground. He half bent to pick it up, but couldn’t make himself grab the flowers. Angry, he walked away, muttering a string of curses, wondering whether he would find an open florist at this hour.
When he knocked at the Summers door, it was Willow who opened for him. Or rather, a shadow of Willow. She looked like she needed sleep even more than he did.
“Hello, Red.” He said softly.
Nothing passed through her inexpressive face, as if she didn’t recognize him. He could have tried to get in, but he didn’t feel like finding out whether he had been un-invited or not. As long as he didn’t know, he could pretend to himself that he still had access to the house.
“Can you tell Buffy I’m here for patrol?”
The Witch stared at him, oblivious to his words. He was going to repeat his request when Dawn appeared behind Willow, smiling at him. She put a hand on Willow’s shoulder and gently pulled her away from the door.
“Spike, come in. Buffy is getting ready, she just arrived from work.”
Returning her smile, he walked past the threshold, and handed her a single long-stemmed white rose, which brightened her face even more if it was possible. Hesitating only a second, he gave a red one to Willow. She seemed to snap out of a trance as she took the flower and breathed its scent.
“Thanks,” she murmured. “It’s beautiful.”
He only nodded, glad to hear her talk at last. The two girls disappeared in the kitchen, and Spike stayed by the door, shifting from one foot to the other, uneasy to be back in the house where he had attacked the woman he loved. The woman who was now walking down the steps toward him, slipping his old duster on. The woman who was smiling to him.
“Ready to go, Big Bad?” she smirked at him.
“Ready if you are, Slayer.”
Dawn came back from the kitchen, holding two long vases that each held a rose, followed by Willow.
“Hey Buffy, look what Spike gave us!” the teenager said excitedly.
“Lucky girls,” Buffy said with a smile. “We’re going on patrol. I’ll try not to be back too late. Giles should be here soon.”
“OK, you two be careful.”
The girls went up the steps as Spike and Buffy came out of the house. He walked next to her in silence for a few steps, then stopped. She turned to him, her eyes asking what was wrong.
“It was for you, you know. I gave it to Red because she looked so sad, but.”
He stopped talking, unsure how to finish. He felt embarrassed at his lack of thought. Not sorry that he had given the flower to Willow, she certainly had seemed like she could use some cheering up, but sorry that he hadn’t bought more flowers. He knew the Witch lived there, knew she was going through difficult times, he should have just thought of it earlier.
“Thank you Spike,” the Slayer said softly, catching his gaze. “I’m glad you gave it to her. Really.”
Without another word, they started walking again.
Damn it, his soul was making him worse than the big poof.
Buffy smiled as she sat on a tombstone, flipping a stake in her hand. A few steps away from her, Spike was wresting on the ground with a demon. A very slimy demon, which was why she was not stepping in.
“Slayer, a little help?”
“Come on, Spike, you can take that thing alone. I don’t want slime on my new duster.”
She stroked the black leather absently. She liked the thing even more on herself than she had liked it on Spike.
Said vampire was now pinned under the demon, holding the green, slimy hands with its 3 inches long nails away from his neck.
“Slayer!”
With an exaggerated sigh, Buffy stepped closer and abruptly pushed the stake into the creature’s head. It fell down on Spike, who quickly wiggled from under it, cursing profusely.
“Remind me to just bloody watch next time you’re in trouble,” he growled.
“Are you saying you were in trouble?” she asked with a too-innocent voice.
“Of course not!” he protested quickly. “It’s not a slimy green bugger that will put me in trouble. Some day I’ll have to tell you what kind of things I had to fight to get the bleedin’ chip out.”
She looked at him curiously, almost asking him to tell her about it now. She changed her mind as she caught the smell of the slime.
“How about we call it a night? Since you already stink, you get rid of the body and I’ll go tell Giles about this little nasty. First time I see one, maybe it needs to be checked out.”
He snorted loudly. “How kind of you to let me have all the fun while you go home.”
Before she could add anything, he had hauled the demon on his shoulder and was striding away, muttering unintelligibly under his non-existent breath. Turning to the opposite direction, she started grumbling about cranky vampires. He had not even said goodbye. Not that it mattered anyway.
It was strange. At times he was so kind and thoughtful, like earlier with Willow, and in a minute he could be back to his smirking, bickering, cursing self. The combination was odd, but the strangest was she didn’t know which side she liked best.
Her foul mood dissipated before she reached her home. Giles, Dawn, Willow and Xander were all in the living room, watching a video. She beckoned Giles to the kitchen, and started describing the demon. They were soon joined by Xander.
“So how did you kill it, Buffster? You say it was slimy and stinky but you look pristine. Way to go, girl!”
She eyed his friend uneasily, unsure whether to tell him or not who had helped her. Before she could decide, the kitchen door opened briskly, revealing a still slime-covered Spike. He walked in urgently, nodding to Giles before turning his attention to Buffy. Xander, he ignored completely.
“I found more of our slimy friends, Slayer. A nest, with 5 or 6 of them, maybe.”
He was cut by Xander’s fist connecting with his jaw.
“How do you even dare talk to her, monster!”
He blocked Xander’s hand as it was approaching his face again, and brutally shoved the brunette to the floor.
“Spike!” Buffy hissed. “Leave him alone!”
He turned to her, surprised and angry. “You tell me to leave him alone? Who attacked who here?”
She helped Xander to his feet. He was staring in turns at her and Spike. He spoke slowly, softly, his voice inexpressive. “Spike is back. Spike can hurt humans. Spike is in Buffy’s house. Buffy is not staking Spike for what he did to her. Instead she is wearing his coat. Someone wants to explain me? Because I think I missed an episode. A whole season, even.”
Buffy winced, both at Xander’s words and at the way Spike’s face had closed, shutting out all expressions. “I promise we’ll talk about it later, Xander. Right now I have to go kill these demons.”
“I’m coming,” he said quickly. “I’m not letting you go slay alone with Blondie.”
She shot a glance at Spike and indicated the door with her head. He took her cue and walked out of the house, thankfully in silence.
“Xander, there is no way I’m taking both of you on patrol with me. Right now, he knows where the nest is, so that is it. You stay here. There are things you don’t know.”
“Obviously,” Xander spat.
“Buffy, I will fill in Xander with Spike’s whereabouts.” Giles said gently. “Grab some weapons and go.”
She gave her Watcher a smile of pure gratitude and walked to the living room, trying to ignore the anger on Xander’s face.
When Buffy came out of the house, she was carrying a sword and an axe. Spike crushed his half-smoked cigarette under his heel and took the axe that she was handing him. They started walking back toward the cemetery, both of them taking purposeful strides.
Spike was shifting the axe from hand to hand, trying to remember why it seemed familiar. The answer came in a flash. It was the weapon the whelp had swung at him after he had tried to find comfort in the demon-girl’s arms. He wondered whether Buffy had chosen that weapon on purpose.
“You know pet, I always hated that boy, but I wouldn’t hurt him.”
Her eyes flickered toward him for a second, before returning to the sight in front of them. They had reached an opening in the woods, and 7 demons were walking around a fire, chanting, or rather grunting, what sounded like an incantation.
“Why wouldn’t you?” she finally asked very low.
“He’s your friend.” Spike answered simply.
He saw a smile form on her lips, and before he knew it she was running to the circle of demons. Repressing the anger he felt at her recklessness, he followed her and joined her dance.
She neatly sliced the closest demon’s head before any of them saw her. The chanting stopped instantly, and the slimy things seemed to hesitate for only a second before they rushed to battle. As Spike stepped closer, the demons separated in two groups, three of them attacking each fighter. None of them had weapon, their only advantage being their numbers, but it did not count for much against the deadly team that the Vampire and the Vampire Slayer formed. In only a few minutes, the fight was over. The stench from the demons was awful, but not enough to hide another scent from the Vampire’s senses.
“Slayer? You’re bleeding?”
His eyes ran over her, looking for her wound, finding it on her right hand.
“It’s nothing,” she said. “Just a little cut. These things sure needed a manicure.”
Walking closer to her, he took her sword and examined her bleeding hand. “You need to clean that. It doesn’t look deep but there’s slime all over it.”
She wrinkled her nose as she examined the cut. “Gross.” Then her eyes widened, as her expression became blank. “It’s starting to burn. And hitch. I think you’re right, I need to clean that.”
“I have a first aid kit at the crypt. It’s closer than your house.”
She nodded and they departed. He noticed her face was very tense, and asked: “Does it hurt?”
“Like hell.”
“Talk, it will distract you”
She snorted. “What do you want me to say?”
“Anything, just talk. It will take your mind off the pain until we can do something about it.”
A predatory smile came to her lips. “You talk and distract me. Why did you leave?”
He shrugged. “I told you why.”
“No, you told me what for. I want to know what decided you to go.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he muttered.
They had arrived at his crypt. He strode in, letting the weapons fall to the floor and went to retrieve his first aid kit. He kept the thing for her, not really needing it for himself. He had her sit in the armchair and kneeled at her side, gently taking her hand to clean it.
“I couldn’t stay near you,” he said quietly, avoiding looking at her face. “You make me insane. You turn my world upside down. You put feelings in my head that shouldn’t be there. I’m a vampire, I’m not supposed to worry that I’ve hurt a human. I am not supposed to feel guilty about it. I’m not supposed to see you crying every time I close my eyes. I wanted these feelings gone. And now it’s worse!”
He laughed joylessly as he gently dabbed disinfectant on her hand. She frowned at him, not even noticing the slight burning from his ministrations.
“You mean. You were feeling guilty before you got your soul?” she asked, confused.
He did not answer, intently wrapping a bandage around her hand, trying to make it tight without hurting her more. One of these days, he thought, his mouth would be the death of him.
“Want me to walk you home, Slayer?” he suggested when he was done, still avoiding to look at her face.
He felt her staring at him for an instant before she replied. “No, I’ll be fine. Thanks.”
She walked to the door, pausing only to take the axe and sword and to say: “See you tomorrow night.”
She did not wait for his answer before leaving.