man in motion
by SoulVamp
Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21
This was no good.
Willow had been staring from the screen of her laptop to the pile of books strewn out over the kitchen table and back again so long her eyes were turning into little dry pebbles. She rubbed her temples and sat up straighter, willing herself to alertness.
Come on, there's gotta be something here, she thought through a foggy haze of sleep deprivation.
The fuzzy black shapes on the computer refused to refocus into words, so she stood up and went about the business of making a fresh pot of coffee. From elsewhere in the house, she could make out small noises: a squeak of bedsprings and the faintest hint of a snore from down the hall, Faith's deliberate footsteps pacing in the basement, and then the snap of a light switch behind her, sending the room into a pale fluorescent glow.
"Ah, sorry, Red. Thought everybody was off in dreamland."
Willow turned and saw Spike, running a hand over his face and neck, a sleepy smile curling up at the edges of his mouth.
"No rest for the researcher," she said. "You need anything?"
He pointed to the coffeepot. "Bit of that might be nice," he replied.
"Can't sleep?"
He shook his head. "Figured might as well give up," he said, leaning against the counter. "Sometimes I still have a spot of trouble keeping human hours. Night 'n' day all mixed up like."
Her hands trembled slightly, and Willow dropped the coffee scoop into the sink. Spike took a tentative step forward. "Easy there, Will," he whispered. "You feelin' quite yourself?"
"No." She let out a short laugh. "This is... weird. I'm, uh... I'm kinda mad at you."
He nodded and looked down at the floor. "Ah. For what happened to your ladylove..."
Willow retrieved the utensil and laid it gently beside the bag of coffee grounds. "No," she replied. "I get that the thing downstairs isn't you. Not this you... It's..." She turned to face him. "Buffy," she said with a shrug. "You killed a little piece of her when you... did what you did. I - I mean, okay, woo hoo... big yay with the noble sacrifice and all, but still."
"I catch your drift, Red."
"Just don't hurt her again, that's all I'm saying." She measured out two scoops of coffee and snapped the machine shut with a hard click.
"Got my word," Spike said quietly. He cleared his throat and grinned at her. "Also got my sincerest permission to let your eyeballs go all scary and shoot little sparks at me if I should even entertain the notion."
She couldn't help but smile at that. "Believe you me, mister, I wouldn't even waste a --"
Her words were interrupted by the soft jingle of her phone.
"Who's calling this late?"
Not the hospital, she thought furtively. Please, God, not bad news...
***
"That's no good."
"In a big, bad, ugly way," Lorne agreed.
"Maybe it's not what it looks like," Gunn suggested feebly.
"Stake plus dust minus boss," Lorne retorted. "I think it's exactly what it looks like."
They peered at the ashes for nearly a minute. Gunn knelt down and picked up the stake that had been dropped amongst them.
"Well... shit," he said finally.
Lorne looked away. "Where's Wesley?"
"You don't think he did this. He wouldn't."
"Whoever did..." Lorne shook his head firmly. "Something or other's way beyond rotten in Denmark."
***
2000
B.C.
Cairo, Egypt
The Seer convulsed and fell to the ground, shaking and clawing at the dirt with long, talon-like fingernails. Strong arms lifted her to a low platform, placing her on the marble surface with great reverence.
A cool, wet piece of folded linen was applied to her forehead, and she moaned softly.
"Was it unpleasant?" one of the group asked.
The Seer moaned again, then finally managed to sit up. "No more than the others," she replied. "The pain is but a small price to pay for the gift."
A robed figure entered the room, bearing papyrus scrolls and writing implements. He knelt before the platform, gesturing in reverence to the Seer, then sat cross-legged on the floor.
"I am ready," he said. "Share with us your vision."
The Seer's face went slack, and her eyes glazed over with a fervent sheen. She threw her head back, and when she spoke again, her voice was low and guttural, barely recognizable as human. Everything she said, the scribe wrote down quickly, only pausing to add more ink to his stylus.
"He who walks in shadows and consumes the bilious matter of man will find strength among the living. He will be restored to glory and be given that which he lost. His spirit will be weakened by the darkness of the unnamed one... the beast who has no form. And the beast shalt find him, and touch him, wounding him in his soul, and he shalt know madness. The beast shalt attack and wound him, and he shalt know neither friend nor family. But he shalt undo the beast through the properties of these sacred words, and he shalt be restored... he shalt survive the darkness and the battles, the plagues and hordes of the underworld, and he shalt be cleansed through fire. His reward will be to be purged of the curse which renders him empty. He will be restored to be as those who dwell within the cycle of life."
Her voice broke, and the Seer slumped forward, sobbing.
"Is it written?" asked the high priest.
"Yes," the scribe said. "It is written."
"Conceal the holy words," the priest ordered. "Cloak them in the languages of the ancient ones, and place the scroll in the keeping of the scholars so that we may discern its meaning when the time comes."
The scribe stood and bowed to the priest. "I am your servant," he said. He departed hurriedly.
"Wait," came the Seer's voice. "There must be something forged."
The priest sat beside her on the platform. "A part of the vision?" he asked.
"A jewel to crown him, the warrior... an agent of his cleansing," she murmured. "Crafted to purge the evil from his spirit and send it to the planes of hell."
"Show us how, and it will be done," the priest said.
***
Spike was paging through a book, taking no real notice of its contents, merely feigning research to keep himself from straining to hear Willow's phone conversation. She'd hung up after the first call, only to quickly make another. This one, he could tell, was to Giles, and the cadence of her voice was worrisome.
'Least it wasn't a doc tellin' her Kennedy didn't make it, he thought with relief. Still, things were full of instability right now, and whatever new information the witch had gotten wasn't likely to have been very good.
He glanced behind him at the living room curtains, noting the slight pink haze beginning to bloom behind the gauzy fabric. Slipping quietly from the sofa, he walked out to the front porch, shaking the last cigarette out of its pack and watching the sun slowly creep over the horizon.
If everything weren't so bloody well fucked at present, I'd be feeling quite good 'bout just being alive...
The door creaked behind him, but he didn't turn. He didn't need to, her scent was still unmistakable, even if his sense of smell wasn't nearly as keen as it used to be.
Her arms wrapped around his waist, and he felt her press her lips to his shoulder, leaning against him comfortably.
"Bit early for you, isn't it, luv?"
"You were gone," she said, a hint of playful petulance in her voice. "I don't remember saying you were allowed to get up."
He laughed. "Oh, I see how it is," he said. "Think you got me wrapped 'round your little finger, eh?"
Buffy released him and gave him a light swat on the arm. "Damn right. You got a problem with that?"
"Ah, the more things change, the more they stay the same," he said with a bemused grin.
Her own smile faded slightly. "You know," she said, "I, um... I do want things to change, Spike..."
He tilted his head to one side and looked at her thoughtfully. "How's that, kitten?"
"Us," she replied quietly. "I want..." She paused, searching for the right words. "I want to make something... real."
Spike dropped his cigarette, grinding it out on the planks of the porch with the heel of his boot. He took Buffy's hand in his, his thumb running lightly over her knuckles. "Always been real to me. Never stopped loving you, not for an instant."
"But you do know... I mean, when I said before... you..." She sighed and started over. "You have to believe that I love you, too."
He saw little tears forming in the corners of her eyes, and he brushed them away before they could fall. "That what this is about, then?" he asked. "My God... you think I didn't know? Buffy, I knew you loved me before you knew it yourself."
"Then why did you say that?" she whispered.
"Thought it was the end... I had to get you out. Couldn't have standed it if I went to my death thinkin' you wouldn't have a chance to live a long, happy life of your own..."
Buffy looked across the lawn, her eyes darting over the sky as it began to melt from pink into gold. "It hasn't been very happy without you."
He took her into his arms and held her close, their hearts beating nearly in tandem. "No more of that," he promised her. "And no more of the fear, eh? I'm back, not goin' anywhere, so you bloody well better just cheer the hell up, right?"
Buffy giggled, pulling away from him just enough to kiss him, long and tenderly. When at last she released him completely, Spike was delighted to see a wide, happy grin on her face.
"So... hmm..." she said, her bright green eyes sparkling in the crisp morning light. "Does this mean you'll be, you know, my boyfriend now?"
"Thought of m'self as that since the moment I realized you'd wormed your way in here," he said, tapping his chest. "But, s'pose it's nice to make it official like." Spike glanced to the front door. "Er, well... that is..."
Buffy placed a fingertip against his lips. "I know," she said. "I was stupid and wrong before. I'm gonna tell them all about this."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"What if your merry gang finds it a problem?" he asked. "Think it's safe to assume I'm never gonna earn everyone's trust."
Buffy shrugged. "For one thing, I think saving the world got you mega trust points. And for another, if somebody wants to complain that I'm being stupid, I don't care. It's my life, and I don't want to have to hide who I choose to share it with."
Spike leaned in to kiss her again, but stopped when the door opened abruptly.
"Guys," Willow said tensely. "Meeting. Now."
"Will?" Buffy's brow furrowed. "Good news or bad news?"
"A little of both."
"Nasty bugger all squared away?" Spike asked as Faith sauntered into the living room.
"Yeah, containment city," Faith said, flopping into a chair and putting her boots up on the coffee table. "Ropes are tight as hell, and I cold cocked him just to be on the safe side." She looked up at Willow, who was pacing nervously. "So, Will, give us the 411."
Willow opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again when the front door opened, Xander and Dawn entering.
"Oh, thank God!" Buffy cried, rushing to embrace her sister. "Are you guys okay?"
"How's Kennedy?" Willow asked, greeting Xander with a hug.
"Careful, careful," Xander said, his face twisting into a grimace as he inched away from Willow. "Squeeze me all you want after I no longer have stitches holding my insides together, 'kay?"
"Kennedy's still the same," Dawn said sadly.
Willow sat down, her eyes pinned to the floor. "This is just... God, I don't know if I can handle losing her..."
As Xander and Dawn took seats on the couch, Buffy sat on the arm of Willow's chair and hugged her. "She'll be okay," Buffy said, though her voice was less than confident. "Don't worry about it right now, all right? You had stuff to tell us, and then we'll go see her." She gazed across the room. "And you," she said, catching Spike's eye, "you get the ribs checked out, got it?"
Spike shrugged. "They feel just dandy this morning, luv, but happy to let 'em give me a prod to make sure."
Buffy looked quizzically at Spike, but further thought was put to a halt when Willow sighed and stood back up.
"Okay, yes, right, new information," the redhead began. "I talked to Wesley and Giles last night, and --"
"Oh!" Fred interrupted. "Wes! How's Wes?"
Spike glanced at the girl, who was nearly beaming with eagerness.
"He's, uh..." Willow faltered. "He's good, he's safe. He's actually coming here today to give us a hand. Some... stuff happened in LA yesterday." Willow sank to her knees in front of Buffy and took her hand. "This... oh, gosh, this is really hard, but... Buffy, it's Angel."
Buffy raised an eyebrow and laughed nervously. "Okay, really not liking where this is going," she said. "What, is it true? He's soul-free and warpathy?"
Willow shook her head. "No, it's worse. Oh, God." Willow swallowed and squeezed Buffy's hand tighter. "He's gone, Buffy. He's dead."
Buffy looked around the room, taking in the others' varied expressions of shock and disbelief.
"No... no..." Fred was murmuring. "What on earth...?"
Buffy couldn't speak, merely began shaking her head, her eyes becoming unfocused until everything in her field of vision was a blur of color. She began to fidget, as if trying to get up and flee, but Willow held on tighter. Spike moved to Buffy's chair, laying a hand on her shoulder.
"Hey, hang on here!" Xander said, standing up and jabbing a finger at Spike. "Why does big bad and newly re-evil get to make with the comfort?"
Dawn tugged on Xander's sleeve. "I don't think that's the same Spike, Xand."
Xander stared down at Dawn with narrowed eyes. "Once more in English, please?"
"Dawnie's right, Xander," Willow confirmed.
Xander took a step toward Spike and peered at him closely. "Huh. Okay, I'm getting that you're... well, your hair looks like crap --"
"Hey!" Spike cried indignantly. "Piss off, Harris, I'm in no mood for your --"
"Guys!" Buffy cut in, her expression murderous. "Please! Okay, Xand? This is Spike. He's human. He's alive. Get over it. The guy who attacked us? Spike's demon half. Tied up in the basement. We can't kill him because the two of them are linked somehow. More details later, now sit the hell down!"
Xander immediately dropped to the couch. "Yes, master," he muttered.
"Now," Buffy said, turning back to Willow, "LA. What happened?"
"S - somebody staked him," Willow stammered. "One of the guys he works with. Gunn. He was under some kind of mind control thing. But on the bright side..."
Buffy laughed again, a hard and bitter chuckle. "There's a bright side?!" Immediately, her head whipped around and she glared at Spike. "Don't even say it," she warned him.
Spike put his hands in the air and backed up, returning to his seat. "Wasn't thinkin' a thing, I swear."
"No, I'm sure you were!" Buffy retorted. "You were thinking that you're glad he's dead!"
Spike's face softened slightly, and he looked at Buffy earnestly. "Not for your sake, I'm not glad. Not a bit."
"Look, can we not make with the drama right now, kids?" Faith chimed in. "I mean, yeah, emotional bullshit out the wazoo, and believe you me it's not like I'm throwin' a goddamn party hearing this, but we got mass weird happening, and Willow needs to finish getting us all up to speed! So can it, all of you, until the girl's done. Capiche?!"
Willow smiled at Faith. "I could kiss you right now," she said with a weak laugh.
Faith winked at her. "Hey, watch what you say, baby, I might just take you up on that. Now bring out the dog and pony and let's see the show."
"Okay." Willow paused, getting her bearings and looking toward Fred and Spike. "You guys chime in with stuff you know about LA if I leave something out."
Spike nodded. "Absolutely," Fred agreed.
Willow took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "Basically, it all started to get icky because of a bunch of demon-summoning lawyers and got even worse when Spike died," she began.
Xander rolled his eyes. "See? Again, it's all his fault."
Buffy shot Xander a look, and he slumped down in his seat. "Shutting up now."
Willow glared at Xander briefly before continuing. "As I was saying, these lawyers got Angel and his people to come work for them. They're the ones who sent Angel here with the amulet that Spike wore to... uh..."
"Pretty shiny thing what made me go all dust in the wind," Spike said. "Do go on, Red."
"Well, yeah, that amulet," Willow said. "Anyway, Spike's death triggered the fulfillment of this prophecy --"
"The shanshu prophecy," Fred added. "It's this ancient prediction that says that once a vampire with a soul fulfills his destiny, he becomes human again. We always assumed it was meant for Angel..."
"That's how you came back," Buffy murmured. "Wow."
"Yeah, rather swiped it out from under 'im, I did," Spike said with a nod.
Fred's expression became grave. "These lawyers," she said. "They really don't play fair. They tricked us into working with them, and they're, like, way evil. I still don't know what we were thinking."
"Wes said you guys were under a thrall," Willow replied. "Well, at least some of you. Most of you. To, um, varying degrees of thrally-ness."
"So that why peaches went after me, then?" Spike asked. "He was gettin' his brain all washed out?"
"Ever since he found out you were alive, he's had this whole vendetta thing going, yeah," Willow explained. "Fred, Wesley said you were kept out of the loop because Angel didn't think you'd go along with it."
"Well, of course I wouldn't have! God, that's just..." Fred shuddered.
"In his defense, Wes did say Angel's been all mopey ever since, um... okay, now there's more bad news of the 'somebody's dead' variety, so... Yeah." Willow glanced at Xander and cleared her throat. "Cordelia died."
"What?!"
Fred gave Xander a comforting look. "She's been in a coma," she said. "Kind of a long story how she got that way, but..."
"When?" Xander's gaze darted quickly back and forth between Willow and Fred, and his hands began to shake.
"Late last month." Fred sighed. "It was really hard on Angel. I should've picked up on something. That's when he started to get distant. Well, more distant than usual."
Faith motioned to Willow. "Gettin' off track again, guys," she said, though her tone was gentle. "Feel stuff later, get the news now."
"Right, so basically Angel tried to kill Spike, and he obviously failed. Spike and Fred got here, and that's where Wes's news comes in," Willow said. "He got to the hotel just as Angel was starting to kind of come back to his senses, but Gunn... he was still all..."
"Gunn, mind control, the evil shitheads got him to wanna stake his boss, that it in a nutshell?" Faith asked.
Willow nodded. "And that's when Wes ran. I told him what the deal was out here, about Spike's..."
"Wacky identical cousin?" Spike said with a chuckle. His feeble attempt at humor was met with Buffy chuffing him hard on the back of the head.
"Come on, okay? Quiet time for the peanut gallery! Almost done here, I swear!" Willow pleaded. "Wes had no idea about the... vampire guy badness, but, like I said, he's on his way here to help us out, not to mention get away from the evil lawyers --"
"Which is a freakin' beautiful oxymoron, yo," Faith snickered.
"Hey! I thought you were on my side with the quiet time and letting me talk?" Willow said with a whimper.
"Sorry, couldn't let that one go by," Faith replied.
Willow sighed heavily and leaned back into her chair. "Yeah, so that's what I got from Wes, and I immediately called Giles. Who, by the way, is very, very grumpy in the morning and apparently doesn't get up before nine so much anymore. But I got him all up on the gist of the deal here, and he basically said he'll talk to the coven and for Wesley to call when he gets to town."
There was a long pause as the room fell into silence.
Dawn coughed. "Uh... Willow?" she asked quietly.
"Yeah?"
"Are you done?"
"That's all I know, yeah," Willow answered.
"S - so we can be, like, upset now, right?" Dawn asked with a quaver in her voice. "Because, I mean, Angel..."
"And Cordy," Xander added softly.
Spike frowned, turning away from Buffy slightly, who was staring blankly across the room distractedly, her mind clearly elsewhere. "Did, eh... perhaps bad time to ask, but did my passing get met with nearly this much melancholy all at once?" he asked, looking at no one in particular.
To Spike's visible shock, it was Xander who spoke up.
"You know what? Yeah. Sorry to feed your already huge ego, but yeah, you did," he said. "From everybody in their own way. Even me. Happy now?" Xander stood up and stalked toward the kitchen.
"No, not happy at all, though that's touching," Spike whispered.
"I, uh..." Buffy said, her voice trailing off. "This... whole thing..." Her head down slightly, she peeked up at Spike through the fringe of her lashes. "I need..."
Spike shook his head. "Just go, have some time, 's all right," he said, his jaw slightly tensed. "Just come, you know, talk when you feel like it, please."
"Yeah," she replied. She walked slowly from the room.
Spike's fists clenched tightly. When Buffy was out of earshot of the living room, he finally spoke. "Meeting adjourned, then, Red?"
"I guess."
"Well, bloody fucking hell," he said, cocking his head to one side and cracking his neck. "There was all manner of other items on the sodding agenda, s'pose that doesn't matter so much now."
"Woah, Spike, calm down," Willow urged him. "What, did you have something..."
He shrugged and got up. "Not likely relevant anymore," he muttered as he stormed outside.
I know which way the wind blows.
Consciousness left me when the bloody bint smashed her fist across my face, but my mind still works, and I'm thinkin' of him. The stupid, worthless piece of humanity that looks like me... that some small vestige of me used to be.
But I'm the strong one. Can't keep me down.
When the demons mixed with humans and started drinking blood to live... stirrin' it all up 'til the races were indistinguishable... man, monster... who the hell knew anymore what the fuck to call a vampire... I was one of those things... a demon created, not born...
Beautiful century of killing, torture, mayhem... Drusilla... Angelus... amazing nights of ripping out throats and quaffing the life out of the innocent... snap a neck here, decapitate a child there, kill a Slayer, kill a Slayer, and even shag a Slayer...
That was all me, and I'm not lettin' that mortal fuckwad take this away from me.
Lilah... oh, God, she's beautiful... gave a little chant and placed a little call in to those wanking amateur magic aficionados, and next thing you know, I'm wakin' up in a cage, given a demon to devour, and... yeah... unlife courses back through me like I was bloody well coming home.
Almost a shame to have to kill blondie. Always was a hot piece of ass, and we had a bit of fun, we did. But it's all part of the plan. Got to wipe the floor with that one, and her little mates, too.
The one I'll enjoy most, though, is William.
He's not Spike, you see, not hardly. That's me. I'm the one what always had the ideas. I'm the one responsible for everything he's ever done, 'til he got that buggering chip and then the fucking soul... sod that, God, the soul, almost went starkers from feelin' like I'd been locked up in a straight jacket by that thing. Horrible. Didn't he see what it did to his grandsire? The moping, brooding, mincing shite? The goddamn curse? You'd think he'd not learned a thing from me! How dare he try to ignore what he was. His true nature, from the moment Dru's perfect fangs slid into his neck... he was my slave, not the other way 'round.
Buffy... ridiculous bitch thinks she loves him, and yeah, she might. But there's a part of her that loves me. 'Fraid to admit that the dark side holds her in its clutches. You can't go about sticking to the shadows and not have it rub off on you. 'S like a copper who goes undercover... you're bound to get corrupted by that which you're tryin' to take down.
Yeah... wakin' up... they're all talking up there, talking about the horrors they've got to face. I can hear 'em.
Angel's dust, eh? Bloody brilliant. Now they've only me to deal with.
I can hear her thoughts halfway 'cross the bleeding country... Lilah, that is. Frettin' a bit, troubling her pretty head that this worthless lot's gonna suss it out, make with the effort of putting me down... No, pet, don't worry! They're simple-minded idiots! They'll never add it all up, and they'll especially not make the connection to use me to bring back peaches.
I know you're vexed, but it'll be all right, luv. Promise. Master plan and all, take all the white hats and make 'em scream. I know what you wanted me for, and I'll do you proud.
Yeah, this'll be ever so much fun.
Bloody hell, Faith's comin' back... no... hang on... not Faith... who the --
The vampire threw back his head and laughed. "Oh, please! They sent you to look after me?"
Xander stared the creature down. "You're tied up. And I'm armed," he said simply.
"With what? Your rapier wit?"
Xander shrugged. "I have a weapon. I'm not showing it to you, that's for damn sure."
"Right, then. So, what, we gonna have a little chat now or some such?"
"Hardly. You're going to shut the hell up, and I'm going to sit here and make sure you don't try anything funny." Xander grabbed a folding chair and slammed it down in front of the vampire.
"You're such a prat," he smirked. "Buffy's little lapdog, 's what you are. Can't you go off and be a real boy now?"
"Shut up."
"Hell, why not just stake me? Come on, you know you want to..." The creature leered at Xander and squirmed suggestively. "Do it, Harris. Prove you got some stones."
Xander's face hardened. "No."
"What, why the hell not? It'd be two birds 'n' all. Dust me, and that thing the Slayer had in her bed last night'd be gone, too."
"That's exactly why I won't," Xander replied. "I figured it out. I don't hate him. He's as much a victim in this as the rest of us are. He didn't go around killing people for a hundred years. That was you."
"Yeah?" the vampire asked. "So then why'd he beg for Drusilla's blood, then, eh? Why, when she told him what was what... why'd he tell her to bring it on?"
The taser was out of Xander's pocket and on the creature's neck before he could say another word. Xander looked down at the unconscious being, studying him carefully. After a long moment, Xander sat back down to continue his watch.
***
She found him sitting in the driver's seat of Fred's rental car, gazing out the windshield with an unreadable expression on his face. The window was down, and his arm -- skin no longer ghostly pale but slightly pink and freckled -- trailed outside, fingertips tracing lazy circles along the door.
Buffy gently touched his elbow, and Spike flinched, drawing his arm inside the car.
"Come back inside, Spike," she said. "Willow told me you left like a bat out of hell, and --"
"Appropriate, don't you think?" he mumbled. "God, this is bizarre, i'n'it?"
Buffy nodded. "Come in, please," she asked again.
"Not just now," he replied. "Tell Will I'm sorry. That wasn't terribly mature of me." He looked up, and to Buffy's surprise she saw that his eyes were bloodshot, traces of dried tears on his cheeks.
"Hey, woah..." She opened the car door and climbed in, settling herself somewhat awkwardly on his lap. "I thought that's what I was supposed to be doing right now." Buffy tenderly rubbed at his face, erasing the hints of his emotion. "This got to you? Not just because of me?"
"Yeah, well... what can I say? Seem to've come back a bit of a nancyboy." He chuckled softly and wrapped his arms around Buffy's waist, shifting to accommodate her better in the cramped confines of the small automobile. "You all right, luv?"
"No," she responded immediately, though she offered Spike a weak smile. "It's a little abstract. I wasn't there to see it happen... I - I think it's gonna hit me when Wesley gets here." Buffy cleared her throat and rested her head on Spike's shoulder. "Do you mind if I just live in denial land for a while? It's all cozy there."
Spike stroked her hair. "Do whatever you got to get through this, baby," he assured her. "And don't think you got to hide how you're feelin' about it from me. Won't take it personal."
"I love you," Buffy said.
"I know you do. And I know you loved him, too, so just... well, yeah... I'll try not to let my jealousy best me. It's gonna hurt when you let it all sink in, and I'm not goin' anywhere. I'll help you through it if you'll let me."
Buffy kissed him gingerly on the cheek, then brushed her lips against the side of his neck, first merely planting butterfly-soft kisses there, then letting her tongue flicker across his skin. Beneath her, she felt Spike stir, adjusting her again on his lap.
"Come inside," she whispered.
"Is now really the time?" he asked. "Lots goin' on, and I thought you wanted me to swing by the hospital..."
"You said you were fine," she murmured. "And besides, when is it ever really a good time? You take a little joy when you can get it..."
She slid across to the passenger side and exited the car. Spike followed, grasping her hand in his as they returned to the house. As they passed the living room, Spike tossed car keys onto the coffee table.
"Red? Go on down and visit your girl," he told Willow. "We're, eh, not comin' with after all."
"No?"
"No, we, er..." Spike faltered.
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Please, I'm sick of pretense. We're going to --"
Willow held up her hand. "Not listening!" Willow interrupted. "Just go... have fun or whatever." She picked up the keys and headed for the front door. "I'll see you guys later."
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