Dirty Back Road Sequel, Part 1
Oct. 13th, 2004 10:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thedeadlyhookWell, I know I said I was going to finish "The Dead Walk" before getting started on this, but I just couldn't wait. Plus, there's a little more suspense with where Spike's head is at this way. [Edit: 7/1/05: There's also more edited-together version of this story at my website, Just Stake Me.]
Anyway, here goes - first chapter to my followup to "Dirty Back Road," tentatively titled "Does It Have to Mean Something?", set about one week after the events of the epilogue. Post-AtS Season 5, a few months after the events of "Not Fade Away." Buffy is living in Rome, she crosses paths with Spike, who happened to be there too for his own reasons... and then where do we go from here?
A word of warning to those who particularly enjoyed the uplifting ending of "Dirty Back Road" - that moment happened, it can't be taken away... but a relationship isn't built on one moment. So this is me trying to get to the heart of the Buffy/Spike relationship - are they really all that compatible, and if so, why?
Does It Have to Mean Something?, Chapter One
Rome, Italy, October, 2004
__________
"So what do you think?" Amid a pile of boxes and shopping bags, Buffy slid into a pointy-toed pink suede pump and lifted her foot, turning the ankle every which way to model the shoe to its best effect. "Aren't they fabulous? And the best part? Totally on sale."
"Yeah, fabulous." Dawn rolled her eyes. The cafe table they were sitting at was nearly swamped by Buffy's recent haul. Dawn drew her feet under her chair and picked at a plate of tomatoes and cheese drizzled in olive oil, studied Buffy from under lowered lashes. "You have no idea how weird this is, do you?"
"How weird what is?" Buffy slipped back into her walking shoes, put the pink suede back in its box. Her own lunch, an extravagant fruit salad, was as yet untouched.
"Seeing you go all shopping spree over Spike."
Buffy guffawed. "That's so not why I've been shopping. I love shopping! It's like a sport. Think of it as me trying for my own personal best." She rummaged through the bags. "I mean, look at this purse. Isn't this the cutest purse ever?" She slid the strap over her shoulder, modeled it for a moment. "It even matches the shoes, only not too much. It's perfect."
"Right. Perfect," Dawn chuckled, knitted her fingers together under her chin. "Buffy, c'mon. You've been buying all these flirty dresses and low-cut tops--"
"They were on sale."
"Plus you've been floating around for days with the dorkiest grin on your face--"
"There's nothing dorky about my face."
Another practiced eye roll. "You guys are totally dating."
A small smile played about Buffy's face as she repacked a bright yellow shopping bag. "We are not dating."
Dawn was unconvinced. "Uh-huh. You've been out every night this week. You get all dolled up. And he drops you off at the apartment at eleven. That's a date, Buffy."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "That's got nothing to do with it. He has stuff to do at night. People to meet." She fussed with another paper shopping bag, arranging layers of colored tissue. "That's why he's here in Rome."
Dawn's eyebrows raised. "What, you mean he didn't come here just to see you?" She took another bite of tomato and cheese.
"Nope." Buffy shrugged, waved a hand. "There was this whole big story. Blah blah Angel, blah blah fight against evil. The usual." Buffy picked up a fork then, began shoveling food into her mouth. "Wow, I didn't realize how hungry I was," she mumbled around a forkful of fruit.
"What's Angel got to do with it?"
"Don't know." Buffy lifted her shoulders in another shrug. "Apparently they're working together on something. I mean, that's a whole reality-warping idea by itself." She continued eating.
Dawn digested this information for a moment. "So that's it? You don't even know what he's doing after your 'not dates'?" She made air quotes.
"I didn't ask," Buffy said stubbornly, mouth full, her eyebrows drawn together in a frown. "Whatever it is, I'm sure he's handling it fine." She paused to swallow, spoke clearly. "I trust him."
Across the table, Dawn continued to watch her sister eat, a little smile playing over her lips. She shook her head, a movement that sent her long hair swinging.
Buffy caught the motion. "What?" she said, looking up from her food.
"You're really in love with him, aren't you."
Buffy thoughtfully chewed and swallowed, a teasing smile on her face. "Why do you ask?"
"Why do you think?" Dawn rolled her eyes. "C'mon, Buffy, admit it. You love him."
Buffy's eyes held a devilish gleam. "Like I love chocolate?" she asked airily.
"You don't buy pink shoes for chocolate."
"I don't buy them for Spike either. He'd look pretty silly in heels."
"Buffy--"
"Oh, c'mon, Dawn. I've had a week to get used to the fact that he's not dead. Can't you cut me a little grace period to figure out exactly what's going on?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever, I'm just--" Dawn blew out an explosive sigh. "Look, I'd just like a little warning, okay? Preferably before I go into the kitchen some morning and get an eyeful of bare skin in towels."
"That only happened once--god, Dawn, give me some credit."
Dawn snorted. "No way. Seeing your buddy Romeo looking all underwear model was bad enough. If I'm gonna have to deal with Spike like that, I want to know ahead of time so I can schedule my therapy appointment."
Buffy laughed. "Alright, alright, fair enough." She pushed her plate aside, dabbed daintily at her lips with a napkin, avoiding her sister's eyes.
Dawn wasn't deterred. "So is that my warning?"
"What?"
A sigh. "Spike. Are you guys a thing now, or what?"
"It's... possible." Buffy smoothed her skirt primly, then fished in her purse, pulled out a pair of tortoiseshell sunglasses and put them on. With her wavy blond hair and chiffon scarf to complete the effect, she looked almost like a movie star. La dolce vita.
"Possible," Dawn echoed.
Buffy heaved an exaggerated sigh of the type familiar to sisters everywhere. Honestly, if we weren't related...
"We're not dating, okay?" Buffy sighed. "I mean, after everything we've been through together? The whole mortal enemies thing and the mutual dying? Dating is the last thing I'd call it. That's for... people who don't even know each other yet."
"Uh-huh. And?"
"And I don't know yet, Dawn. We're... taking things slow."
"Uh-huh."
Buffy rolled her eyes, exasperated. "God, why is everyone always so interested in my love life? Geez, I promise you--when I have details to share, you'll so be the first to know."
"I'm so gonna hold you to that."
"Okay, then."
"Okay."
__________
Lunch over, the sisters separated--Dawn heading back to her class and Buffy industriously hauling her shopping bags back to their shared apartment. It was a long walk, but Buffy didn't mind--she didn't enjoy cab rides in Rome all that much anyway, given how relentless some drivers could be, plus her not-completely-confident command of Italian. And at least one perk from her Slayer strength meant that toting heavy loads over long distances was no big deal.
Hard to see how that wasn't a plus.
It was late afternoon by the time she reached home, slanting sunlight reflecting gold off the apartment's tall windows. Over the last week, she'd pretty much decided that this was her favorite time of the day, the hours just before dusk. Waiting for night to fall, delicious anticipation in her stomach. Primping and taking bubble baths and trying on new clothes for her twilight rendevous.
Not dates. Honestly, where did Dawn get these ideas?
There really wasn't a good word for it, the way she and Spike had been lately. They'd been... friendly with each other in a way they'd never been before, certainly not when they were... well, seeing each other. They'd certainly never dated, although she'd described it that way once. I'm the one who dates dead guys. She'd known at the time that it wasn't true--dating was soda shops and movie nights, not fistfights in dark alleys--but as a description, it had sure sounded better than I'm the one who has tragic, doomed love affairs and hot, self-hating sex with vampires.
Sometimes objective facts just had to take a back seat to quality quippery.
No, this... whatever they had now, the vibe between them in these last few days, it was something new. She'd met up with Spike every night, just like Dawn had said, companionable outings that started at nightfall and ended before midnight, when he'd drop her off at her home and jet off to meet with other people, something he said he had to take care of on his own. That alone was different--he'd never, ever been like that before, wanting to handle things without her help.
But she was sure it was fine. Whatever he was doing. Just like she'd told Dawn. And it was entirely possible that he had explained it to her at some point, not that she would have remembered. Spike had told her the whole story of what had happened to him after the Hellmouth that first night, holding her hands across a cafe table at some candlelit trattoria, and she'd... well, honestly, she'd really only understood about half of it. There'd been stuff about a ghost phase and boxes in the mail and the Senior Partners... an old nemesis of Angel's and some woman who turned blue, something vague about a werewolf. It had all gone over her head. She'd been too mesmerized by the sight of him at the time, glasses of prosecco on the table between them, candles and miniature lights making the dark little corner where they sat all fairy-lit. As romantic moments go, it had been at least an eight out of ten.
She'd known what she'd felt. That was enough.
It was fresh start for them, being here in Rome, so far away from everything--the old, bad history and her disapproving friends, both of them back from far side of death... it was hard to even think of herself or Spike as being the same people anymore. And if she was honest with herself, she had to admit she was really enoying the whole Peggy Sue Got Married quality of things right now--not that she'd ever seen that movie, but she got the gist of it anyway, going back in time to redo your past. This was a second chance for them, to get to know each other as new people, her without being a Slayer and him with a soul... she was learning to just be herself, with him.
Huh. Okay, maybe Dawn was right. Maybe they were kinda dating. A little.
In the apartment, Buffy kicked off her shoes and piled her loot on her bed, surveyed the damage. Three cute, floaty tops and a lyrca halter. A chainlink belt, a crocheted lace poncho. An absolutely luscious Italian leather skirt. The pink shoes and the almost-matching purse. Plus a couple of scarves, a tooled leather bracelet, and a jeweled hairpin.
Not at all bad for a day's work. Thanks to the New Council and their regular stipends.
She dug in her purse and hauled out her cell phone, one eye on the windows and the fading sun.
It was the type of phone that took pictures. She had a photo of Spike on it. The first she'd ever had of him. She smiled to herself and hit the speed dial, put the phone to her ear.
"Hey, you," she said warmly the instant the phone picked up.
"Hello, Buffy." The rich sound of his voice sent a pleasant tingle through her.
"You sound sleepy. I didn't wake you, did I?"
"No, I was already awake." He did so sound sleepy. She pictured him in her mind, drowsy and blinking, rubbing a hand through his new shorter hair.
"Sure you were. A person would think you didn't sleep at all these days." She pulled the chiffon scarf from around her neck and tossed it on the bed. "I mean, you're always awake when I call."
He snorted. "I sleep, you know that. Although what with some people calling me at all hours, I can't say it's easy." There was humor in his voice when he said it, but Buffy felt a flush creeping up her neck and ears anyway.
She had called him a lot lately. Several times that first day--for starters, to convince Dawn, who'd honestly thought Buffy had gone off her rocker when she had stumbled into the apartment after midnight babbling you'll never guess who I saw tonight. No, you'll really never guess. Dawn had simply dropped the phone on the first call, blanched sheet-white at the sound of Spike's voice and retreated into her room. Bringing Dawn up to date had taken hours, multiple phone calls, some of them confused and tearful, and Buffy had collapsed in exhaustion the following morning, worn out from all the excess emotion... only to bolt awake some time later, woozy and panicked, convinced that she'd hallucinated the entire thing. She'd called him a few more times after that, just needing to hear his voice to reassure her, to know it was true.
"I haven't done that in awhile," she pouted, teasing. "It's been at least a couple of days." She shrugged out of her jacket, switched the phone to her other ear and began to unbutton her shirt, one-handed.
It wasn't until their third outing that she'd finally thought to take the photo.
The picture was proof. That he existed, that he was real. She could look at that picture anytime, revel in his enigmatic smile. It was hers to keep, like a talisman.
He came back to me. He came back. She smiled.
"So what's on your mind?" Spike said.
"Oh, nothing much. I bought new shoes," she said conversationally, wiggling out of her shirt and then reaching behind her to undo the clasp on her skirt. "There's this cocktail bar I know that has really tall bar stools. And good Cosmopolitans. But the real reason we should go there is so you can get a good look at my feet. What do you think?"
"Um, right. Listen, Buffy, about tonight--"
"I got a new skirt too. Leather," she said brightly. Stepping out of her skirt, she surveyed herself crtically in the mirror. Her underwear looked a little worn around the edges--not that it was old or anything; nothing she had was much older than a year, but she'd worn this set while she'd been seeing Romeo. She made a mental note to put lingerie shopping next on her menu.
"You do always look right fetching in leather," he agreed pleasantly. Wasn't that an appreciative sound in his voice? New underwear, definitely.
"Well, if you feel that way about it, I might even wear it tonight," she said, her voice dripping with promise. "You can see me in it starting at, oh... dammit, Dawn showed me where to look up sunset times on the Internet, and I had this whole schedule..."
"Buffy--"
"Here it is!" Paper rustled as she consulted her list. "Sun sets at 7:31. Wanna meet at... how about 7:45?
"Don't know if I can do that tonight."
The full-length mirror showed a slender young woman standing in her bra and panties, phone to her ear. The image frowned. "You don't want to see me in leather?" she teased. "Make up your mind, already."
"No, I mean I don't think I can see you tonight."
Buffy paused. Well, that sucks. "Why not?"
"Got someplace to be."
Someplace? "Spike, don't be mysterious."
"Sorry, pet. Safer this way. Shouldn't explain too much more."
She blew out a puff of air in frustration. "Okay, listen. I'm fine with whatever you do at night, okay? But when you start bailing on our dates because of it? I think I have a right to know what it is."
There was silence on the line for a moment. "Hello?" she finally said after a reasonable period of waiting.
"Sorry," he said then. "Just... ah, didn't expect to hear you say that."
Her brows drew together. "Hey, don't get the wrong idea, Mr. Sensitive. I'm not accusing you of wanting to bail, just that... and I think you should know that I trust you by now."
"No, not that, I didn't mean--" He paused again. "You trust me." He said this very softly.
"Uh, duh."
"You hadn't actually said that before. In so many words."
"Yeah, well, I haven't said a lot of things in so many words." She unhooked her bra. "So spill. What's this 'someplace' you have to be tonight?"
"Well, I, um..." A soft sound, like a sigh. "It's one of those meetings I told you about. A bunch of high-level demons are having a pow-wow. I sorta have to be there. So I'm... gonna have to break our 'date.' Sorry about that."
Slipping out of her panties, Buffy paused. Oh. Date. I guess I did say that. She adjusted her strategy. "Well, can't I meet you there?" Naked in front of the mirror, she ran a hand from her breasts to her hip. She hadn't been training like she used to, but she hadn't gotten flabby either. She could hold her own in a room full of demons, no problem.
"'Fraid not. It's gonna take time just setting up a reason for me to be there. Can't quite see how a Slayer could crash the party."
"So what, you're ashamed of me now?" she teased. "And hey, guess what I'm wearing."
"Of course I'm not ashamed of you--where do you get this stuff? Just not that kind of night, is all. It'll be a meeting. Boring. You know, like that poker game." He paused. "What are you wearing?"
"I can so do a poker night," she insisted, and sat down on the bed, ignoring his question. She bounced playfully instead, wondered if he could hear the springs squeak. "Not like we haven't done it before."
"And that was such a success." Okay, she could hear the smile in his voice now. She lay back.
"Hey, I've gotten better at holding my liquor since then."
"I'll bet you have."
"So? Tell me where to meet you."
"Uh, no. Can't do it, pet. Sorry."
Buffy rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, forgetting for a moment that he couldn't see her. "Oh, don't be such a sourpuss. I can blend. I'll do a disguise. Like, something all slinky and with the serious makeup. I can hang off your arm like one of those girls in casinos." She was starting to warm to this idea. She traced the outline of a nipple with one finger.
"Can't risk it."
Frowning, Buffy halted in her motions, fell silent. Spike wasn't budging. Not even slightly. She'd never been in this situation with him before, heard him talk about what he couldn't risk.
It felt strangely backwards.
"Is it really that dangerous?" she asked softly, levering herself up on her elbows. "What you're doing?"
He paused. Long enough to put a twist of worry in her stomach.
"Well, spot of danger now and then keeps things from getting dull, doesn't it?" he offered eventually.
"Right," she said. That twist of worry coiled tighter. "Nothing worse than the dullness."
"So rain check for tonight, alright luv? If there's any way I can get clear of this before sunrise, I'll call you. Still want to see you in that leather."
"I'll be ready," she said. "Just... be careful, alright?"
"Always."
He switched off his phone then, and Buffy did the same. Folded the slim silver device closed and mouthed the message she hadn't spoken when they'd said their goodbyes. I love you.
She hadn't said it to him yet. And neither had he. They hadn't talked about it at all, those last few moments together in the Hellmouth... what she'd said to him, what he'd said to her. It hung between them still, silent, and she knew all too well why.
He hadn't believed her. She understood that, why he wouldn't. In retrospect, she had to admit that her timing had sucked. That the first time she'd told him her feelings, let herself say I love you, was the moment he was dying. Even though she honestly couldn't see how she could have done anything differently at the time didn't change that.
No you don't.
And she would have had to live with that, if it had been their last moment together. Knowing that he'd gone to his death honestly thinking that she was just being kind, even after she'd touched his soul, felt what was in him, saw herself through his eyes. Heartbreaking to think it, but that could have been their ending, their moment, his only chance to hear her say it, that once. It almost was.
Thanks for saying it.
But now she had another chance, and it was going to be different. She would make sure of that. There wouldn't be room for even the slightest doubt in his mind by the time she was done--it was why she didn't want to rush. The next time she said it, he'd know that it was nothing to do with gratitude or pity, but just because she, Buffy, wanted to say I love you to him, Spike. Simply because it was true.
She stood up and stretched sinuously. So, a night in. Might as well make the best of it.
She walked naked across the bedroom and snagged a red silk kimono from a hook on the door. Shrugged it on and made her way to the kitchen to make herself dinner.
Anyway, here goes - first chapter to my followup to "Dirty Back Road," tentatively titled "Does It Have to Mean Something?", set about one week after the events of the epilogue. Post-AtS Season 5, a few months after the events of "Not Fade Away." Buffy is living in Rome, she crosses paths with Spike, who happened to be there too for his own reasons... and then where do we go from here?
A word of warning to those who particularly enjoyed the uplifting ending of "Dirty Back Road" - that moment happened, it can't be taken away... but a relationship isn't built on one moment. So this is me trying to get to the heart of the Buffy/Spike relationship - are they really all that compatible, and if so, why?
Does It Have to Mean Something?, Chapter One
Rome, Italy, October, 2004
__________
"So what do you think?" Amid a pile of boxes and shopping bags, Buffy slid into a pointy-toed pink suede pump and lifted her foot, turning the ankle every which way to model the shoe to its best effect. "Aren't they fabulous? And the best part? Totally on sale."
"Yeah, fabulous." Dawn rolled her eyes. The cafe table they were sitting at was nearly swamped by Buffy's recent haul. Dawn drew her feet under her chair and picked at a plate of tomatoes and cheese drizzled in olive oil, studied Buffy from under lowered lashes. "You have no idea how weird this is, do you?"
"How weird what is?" Buffy slipped back into her walking shoes, put the pink suede back in its box. Her own lunch, an extravagant fruit salad, was as yet untouched.
"Seeing you go all shopping spree over Spike."
Buffy guffawed. "That's so not why I've been shopping. I love shopping! It's like a sport. Think of it as me trying for my own personal best." She rummaged through the bags. "I mean, look at this purse. Isn't this the cutest purse ever?" She slid the strap over her shoulder, modeled it for a moment. "It even matches the shoes, only not too much. It's perfect."
"Right. Perfect," Dawn chuckled, knitted her fingers together under her chin. "Buffy, c'mon. You've been buying all these flirty dresses and low-cut tops--"
"They were on sale."
"Plus you've been floating around for days with the dorkiest grin on your face--"
"There's nothing dorky about my face."
Another practiced eye roll. "You guys are totally dating."
A small smile played about Buffy's face as she repacked a bright yellow shopping bag. "We are not dating."
Dawn was unconvinced. "Uh-huh. You've been out every night this week. You get all dolled up. And he drops you off at the apartment at eleven. That's a date, Buffy."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "That's got nothing to do with it. He has stuff to do at night. People to meet." She fussed with another paper shopping bag, arranging layers of colored tissue. "That's why he's here in Rome."
Dawn's eyebrows raised. "What, you mean he didn't come here just to see you?" She took another bite of tomato and cheese.
"Nope." Buffy shrugged, waved a hand. "There was this whole big story. Blah blah Angel, blah blah fight against evil. The usual." Buffy picked up a fork then, began shoveling food into her mouth. "Wow, I didn't realize how hungry I was," she mumbled around a forkful of fruit.
"What's Angel got to do with it?"
"Don't know." Buffy lifted her shoulders in another shrug. "Apparently they're working together on something. I mean, that's a whole reality-warping idea by itself." She continued eating.
Dawn digested this information for a moment. "So that's it? You don't even know what he's doing after your 'not dates'?" She made air quotes.
"I didn't ask," Buffy said stubbornly, mouth full, her eyebrows drawn together in a frown. "Whatever it is, I'm sure he's handling it fine." She paused to swallow, spoke clearly. "I trust him."
Across the table, Dawn continued to watch her sister eat, a little smile playing over her lips. She shook her head, a movement that sent her long hair swinging.
Buffy caught the motion. "What?" she said, looking up from her food.
"You're really in love with him, aren't you."
Buffy thoughtfully chewed and swallowed, a teasing smile on her face. "Why do you ask?"
"Why do you think?" Dawn rolled her eyes. "C'mon, Buffy, admit it. You love him."
Buffy's eyes held a devilish gleam. "Like I love chocolate?" she asked airily.
"You don't buy pink shoes for chocolate."
"I don't buy them for Spike either. He'd look pretty silly in heels."
"Buffy--"
"Oh, c'mon, Dawn. I've had a week to get used to the fact that he's not dead. Can't you cut me a little grace period to figure out exactly what's going on?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever, I'm just--" Dawn blew out an explosive sigh. "Look, I'd just like a little warning, okay? Preferably before I go into the kitchen some morning and get an eyeful of bare skin in towels."
"That only happened once--god, Dawn, give me some credit."
Dawn snorted. "No way. Seeing your buddy Romeo looking all underwear model was bad enough. If I'm gonna have to deal with Spike like that, I want to know ahead of time so I can schedule my therapy appointment."
Buffy laughed. "Alright, alright, fair enough." She pushed her plate aside, dabbed daintily at her lips with a napkin, avoiding her sister's eyes.
Dawn wasn't deterred. "So is that my warning?"
"What?"
A sigh. "Spike. Are you guys a thing now, or what?"
"It's... possible." Buffy smoothed her skirt primly, then fished in her purse, pulled out a pair of tortoiseshell sunglasses and put them on. With her wavy blond hair and chiffon scarf to complete the effect, she looked almost like a movie star. La dolce vita.
"Possible," Dawn echoed.
Buffy heaved an exaggerated sigh of the type familiar to sisters everywhere. Honestly, if we weren't related...
"We're not dating, okay?" Buffy sighed. "I mean, after everything we've been through together? The whole mortal enemies thing and the mutual dying? Dating is the last thing I'd call it. That's for... people who don't even know each other yet."
"Uh-huh. And?"
"And I don't know yet, Dawn. We're... taking things slow."
"Uh-huh."
Buffy rolled her eyes, exasperated. "God, why is everyone always so interested in my love life? Geez, I promise you--when I have details to share, you'll so be the first to know."
"I'm so gonna hold you to that."
"Okay, then."
"Okay."
__________
Lunch over, the sisters separated--Dawn heading back to her class and Buffy industriously hauling her shopping bags back to their shared apartment. It was a long walk, but Buffy didn't mind--she didn't enjoy cab rides in Rome all that much anyway, given how relentless some drivers could be, plus her not-completely-confident command of Italian. And at least one perk from her Slayer strength meant that toting heavy loads over long distances was no big deal.
Hard to see how that wasn't a plus.
It was late afternoon by the time she reached home, slanting sunlight reflecting gold off the apartment's tall windows. Over the last week, she'd pretty much decided that this was her favorite time of the day, the hours just before dusk. Waiting for night to fall, delicious anticipation in her stomach. Primping and taking bubble baths and trying on new clothes for her twilight rendevous.
Not dates. Honestly, where did Dawn get these ideas?
There really wasn't a good word for it, the way she and Spike had been lately. They'd been... friendly with each other in a way they'd never been before, certainly not when they were... well, seeing each other. They'd certainly never dated, although she'd described it that way once. I'm the one who dates dead guys. She'd known at the time that it wasn't true--dating was soda shops and movie nights, not fistfights in dark alleys--but as a description, it had sure sounded better than I'm the one who has tragic, doomed love affairs and hot, self-hating sex with vampires.
Sometimes objective facts just had to take a back seat to quality quippery.
No, this... whatever they had now, the vibe between them in these last few days, it was something new. She'd met up with Spike every night, just like Dawn had said, companionable outings that started at nightfall and ended before midnight, when he'd drop her off at her home and jet off to meet with other people, something he said he had to take care of on his own. That alone was different--he'd never, ever been like that before, wanting to handle things without her help.
But she was sure it was fine. Whatever he was doing. Just like she'd told Dawn. And it was entirely possible that he had explained it to her at some point, not that she would have remembered. Spike had told her the whole story of what had happened to him after the Hellmouth that first night, holding her hands across a cafe table at some candlelit trattoria, and she'd... well, honestly, she'd really only understood about half of it. There'd been stuff about a ghost phase and boxes in the mail and the Senior Partners... an old nemesis of Angel's and some woman who turned blue, something vague about a werewolf. It had all gone over her head. She'd been too mesmerized by the sight of him at the time, glasses of prosecco on the table between them, candles and miniature lights making the dark little corner where they sat all fairy-lit. As romantic moments go, it had been at least an eight out of ten.
She'd known what she'd felt. That was enough.
It was fresh start for them, being here in Rome, so far away from everything--the old, bad history and her disapproving friends, both of them back from far side of death... it was hard to even think of herself or Spike as being the same people anymore. And if she was honest with herself, she had to admit she was really enoying the whole Peggy Sue Got Married quality of things right now--not that she'd ever seen that movie, but she got the gist of it anyway, going back in time to redo your past. This was a second chance for them, to get to know each other as new people, her without being a Slayer and him with a soul... she was learning to just be herself, with him.
Huh. Okay, maybe Dawn was right. Maybe they were kinda dating. A little.
In the apartment, Buffy kicked off her shoes and piled her loot on her bed, surveyed the damage. Three cute, floaty tops and a lyrca halter. A chainlink belt, a crocheted lace poncho. An absolutely luscious Italian leather skirt. The pink shoes and the almost-matching purse. Plus a couple of scarves, a tooled leather bracelet, and a jeweled hairpin.
Not at all bad for a day's work. Thanks to the New Council and their regular stipends.
She dug in her purse and hauled out her cell phone, one eye on the windows and the fading sun.
It was the type of phone that took pictures. She had a photo of Spike on it. The first she'd ever had of him. She smiled to herself and hit the speed dial, put the phone to her ear.
"Hey, you," she said warmly the instant the phone picked up.
"Hello, Buffy." The rich sound of his voice sent a pleasant tingle through her.
"You sound sleepy. I didn't wake you, did I?"
"No, I was already awake." He did so sound sleepy. She pictured him in her mind, drowsy and blinking, rubbing a hand through his new shorter hair.
"Sure you were. A person would think you didn't sleep at all these days." She pulled the chiffon scarf from around her neck and tossed it on the bed. "I mean, you're always awake when I call."
He snorted. "I sleep, you know that. Although what with some people calling me at all hours, I can't say it's easy." There was humor in his voice when he said it, but Buffy felt a flush creeping up her neck and ears anyway.
She had called him a lot lately. Several times that first day--for starters, to convince Dawn, who'd honestly thought Buffy had gone off her rocker when she had stumbled into the apartment after midnight babbling you'll never guess who I saw tonight. No, you'll really never guess. Dawn had simply dropped the phone on the first call, blanched sheet-white at the sound of Spike's voice and retreated into her room. Bringing Dawn up to date had taken hours, multiple phone calls, some of them confused and tearful, and Buffy had collapsed in exhaustion the following morning, worn out from all the excess emotion... only to bolt awake some time later, woozy and panicked, convinced that she'd hallucinated the entire thing. She'd called him a few more times after that, just needing to hear his voice to reassure her, to know it was true.
"I haven't done that in awhile," she pouted, teasing. "It's been at least a couple of days." She shrugged out of her jacket, switched the phone to her other ear and began to unbutton her shirt, one-handed.
It wasn't until their third outing that she'd finally thought to take the photo.
The picture was proof. That he existed, that he was real. She could look at that picture anytime, revel in his enigmatic smile. It was hers to keep, like a talisman.
He came back to me. He came back. She smiled.
"So what's on your mind?" Spike said.
"Oh, nothing much. I bought new shoes," she said conversationally, wiggling out of her shirt and then reaching behind her to undo the clasp on her skirt. "There's this cocktail bar I know that has really tall bar stools. And good Cosmopolitans. But the real reason we should go there is so you can get a good look at my feet. What do you think?"
"Um, right. Listen, Buffy, about tonight--"
"I got a new skirt too. Leather," she said brightly. Stepping out of her skirt, she surveyed herself crtically in the mirror. Her underwear looked a little worn around the edges--not that it was old or anything; nothing she had was much older than a year, but she'd worn this set while she'd been seeing Romeo. She made a mental note to put lingerie shopping next on her menu.
"You do always look right fetching in leather," he agreed pleasantly. Wasn't that an appreciative sound in his voice? New underwear, definitely.
"Well, if you feel that way about it, I might even wear it tonight," she said, her voice dripping with promise. "You can see me in it starting at, oh... dammit, Dawn showed me where to look up sunset times on the Internet, and I had this whole schedule..."
"Buffy--"
"Here it is!" Paper rustled as she consulted her list. "Sun sets at 7:31. Wanna meet at... how about 7:45?
"Don't know if I can do that tonight."
The full-length mirror showed a slender young woman standing in her bra and panties, phone to her ear. The image frowned. "You don't want to see me in leather?" she teased. "Make up your mind, already."
"No, I mean I don't think I can see you tonight."
Buffy paused. Well, that sucks. "Why not?"
"Got someplace to be."
Someplace? "Spike, don't be mysterious."
"Sorry, pet. Safer this way. Shouldn't explain too much more."
She blew out a puff of air in frustration. "Okay, listen. I'm fine with whatever you do at night, okay? But when you start bailing on our dates because of it? I think I have a right to know what it is."
There was silence on the line for a moment. "Hello?" she finally said after a reasonable period of waiting.
"Sorry," he said then. "Just... ah, didn't expect to hear you say that."
Her brows drew together. "Hey, don't get the wrong idea, Mr. Sensitive. I'm not accusing you of wanting to bail, just that... and I think you should know that I trust you by now."
"No, not that, I didn't mean--" He paused again. "You trust me." He said this very softly.
"Uh, duh."
"You hadn't actually said that before. In so many words."
"Yeah, well, I haven't said a lot of things in so many words." She unhooked her bra. "So spill. What's this 'someplace' you have to be tonight?"
"Well, I, um..." A soft sound, like a sigh. "It's one of those meetings I told you about. A bunch of high-level demons are having a pow-wow. I sorta have to be there. So I'm... gonna have to break our 'date.' Sorry about that."
Slipping out of her panties, Buffy paused. Oh. Date. I guess I did say that. She adjusted her strategy. "Well, can't I meet you there?" Naked in front of the mirror, she ran a hand from her breasts to her hip. She hadn't been training like she used to, but she hadn't gotten flabby either. She could hold her own in a room full of demons, no problem.
"'Fraid not. It's gonna take time just setting up a reason for me to be there. Can't quite see how a Slayer could crash the party."
"So what, you're ashamed of me now?" she teased. "And hey, guess what I'm wearing."
"Of course I'm not ashamed of you--where do you get this stuff? Just not that kind of night, is all. It'll be a meeting. Boring. You know, like that poker game." He paused. "What are you wearing?"
"I can so do a poker night," she insisted, and sat down on the bed, ignoring his question. She bounced playfully instead, wondered if he could hear the springs squeak. "Not like we haven't done it before."
"And that was such a success." Okay, she could hear the smile in his voice now. She lay back.
"Hey, I've gotten better at holding my liquor since then."
"I'll bet you have."
"So? Tell me where to meet you."
"Uh, no. Can't do it, pet. Sorry."
Buffy rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, forgetting for a moment that he couldn't see her. "Oh, don't be such a sourpuss. I can blend. I'll do a disguise. Like, something all slinky and with the serious makeup. I can hang off your arm like one of those girls in casinos." She was starting to warm to this idea. She traced the outline of a nipple with one finger.
"Can't risk it."
Frowning, Buffy halted in her motions, fell silent. Spike wasn't budging. Not even slightly. She'd never been in this situation with him before, heard him talk about what he couldn't risk.
It felt strangely backwards.
"Is it really that dangerous?" she asked softly, levering herself up on her elbows. "What you're doing?"
He paused. Long enough to put a twist of worry in her stomach.
"Well, spot of danger now and then keeps things from getting dull, doesn't it?" he offered eventually.
"Right," she said. That twist of worry coiled tighter. "Nothing worse than the dullness."
"So rain check for tonight, alright luv? If there's any way I can get clear of this before sunrise, I'll call you. Still want to see you in that leather."
"I'll be ready," she said. "Just... be careful, alright?"
"Always."
He switched off his phone then, and Buffy did the same. Folded the slim silver device closed and mouthed the message she hadn't spoken when they'd said their goodbyes. I love you.
She hadn't said it to him yet. And neither had he. They hadn't talked about it at all, those last few moments together in the Hellmouth... what she'd said to him, what he'd said to her. It hung between them still, silent, and she knew all too well why.
He hadn't believed her. She understood that, why he wouldn't. In retrospect, she had to admit that her timing had sucked. That the first time she'd told him her feelings, let herself say I love you, was the moment he was dying. Even though she honestly couldn't see how she could have done anything differently at the time didn't change that.
No you don't.
And she would have had to live with that, if it had been their last moment together. Knowing that he'd gone to his death honestly thinking that she was just being kind, even after she'd touched his soul, felt what was in him, saw herself through his eyes. Heartbreaking to think it, but that could have been their ending, their moment, his only chance to hear her say it, that once. It almost was.
Thanks for saying it.
But now she had another chance, and it was going to be different. She would make sure of that. There wouldn't be room for even the slightest doubt in his mind by the time she was done--it was why she didn't want to rush. The next time she said it, he'd know that it was nothing to do with gratitude or pity, but just because she, Buffy, wanted to say I love you to him, Spike. Simply because it was true.
She stood up and stretched sinuously. So, a night in. Might as well make the best of it.
She walked naked across the bedroom and snagged a red silk kimono from a hook on the door. Shrugged it on and made her way to the kitchen to make herself dinner.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-14 07:15 am (UTC)And I love Shopping!Buffy, all excited and flushed with love. What is Spike up to?
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-15 07:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-14 08:00 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-15 07:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-14 08:13 am (UTC)And there's something about Buffy being all sweet and vulnerable that makes me nervous too... But that's your job -- to make me nervous!
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-15 07:33 pm (UTC)Well, no, actually... it's not even me being a hoary old cynic. It's more just... wanting to see those issues worked out. So I'm gonna get stuck in and work on them, and that's going to be necessarily bumpy. I mean, really - we're talking about a woman who's never had a relationship last long enough to get around to the problem-solving stage, and a guy who's never had to compromise around a sane girlfriend. And that's not even getting into some of their other issues.
And to think anyone could imagine that this relationship could be boring...
Hope I can keep you feeling nervous for awhile. : )
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-14 08:54 am (UTC)You make me giddy with anticipation , but dreading the next events. Is that good ? Hum.. and yes they are really that compatible !
So I shall wait , and see : you will show us how beautifully - yet with difficulty? - they are matching each other ..... right ?
Great work with this first part , definitively.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-15 07:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-14 10:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-15 07:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-14 11:57 am (UTC)Yay! Buffy's being all grown up about starting over. Excellent start.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-15 07:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-14 03:42 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-15 07:42 pm (UTC)Maybe it's the fresh start thing again. New clothes are symbolic. And it's not just Buffy who's been changing her look...
Back to working on the next chapter of torture. Heh.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-14 04:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-15 07:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-15 01:20 am (UTC)BWAH! That's the best use of alliteration I've heard in a long, long time.
OMG, I just realized I'm reading het! You're evil.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-15 07:47 pm (UTC)OMG, I just realized I'm reading het! You're evil.
Yes, I am. Mwha hah hah.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-15 10:20 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-15 07:50 pm (UTC)Glad you liked the start. I was a bit worried she would come off a tad too friviolous.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-15 10:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-15 11:14 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-15 11:44 pm (UTC)Exactly. Can't blame the poor girl for it really. Probably, in a year's time, she'll look at that little poncho and wince.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-15 12:35 pm (UTC)And I like Spike doing his own thing, continuing working with Angel and be his own man and not Buffy's pet. And I think he can be, but it's going to take a lot of hard work from both of them.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-15 07:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-15 08:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-15 09:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-16 01:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-17 04:06 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-19 11:29 pm (UTC)I need a vacation to read all this stuff. I don't know how you Ladies of LJ do all this writing, and reading, and working, and RLing. It's incomprehensible to me.
Looking forward to seeing where this great story is going.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-20 04:34 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-27 02:38 pm (UTC)Hi! I just read Dirty Back Road and this first chapter and I felt the need to say 2 things. Number 1 - Hope you don't mind and number. 2- BRAVO!!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-27 10:42 pm (UTC)