Rated: PG-13
Summary: Spike leaves after "Dead Things," wanting nothing more than to get Buffy out of his head. Wesley's still an independent contractor after the events of "Loyalty." And the Slayer's still living in the land of denial.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters featured
below except for Nika. She's all mine. And I'm not making any money off
of her either, so please don't sue.
Chapter 6: October 2005
"So?" Dawn asked, as she flopped down on Spike's couch. She usually stayed the night on Thursdays when she came over. It was a nice change from being in the dorms, and if Spike wasn't around, she and Nika usually hung out. Nights like this, coming back covered in grime and demon guts, it was probably better she not be seen by anyone on campus.
"So what?" he asked, his voice muffled by the bathroom door. Dawn had already taken her shower, and Spike was just finishing up. He emerged in a cloud of steam, wearing only a pair of worn blue jeans.
"So what did you think of Connor?" Dawn said, rolling her eyes at his obtuseness.
He shrugged. "Boy seemed alright, 'specially considerin' who his father is."
"You liked him, then?" Spike looked over at her and realized that his opinion really did matter to her. She wanted him to like Connor, and she wanted his approval.
His expression softened. "Yeah, Niblet. He seemed like a good kid. He's not good enough for you, but then, who would be?"
She broke into a huge grin. "I'm glad you like him. It's not like we can really hang out at the hotel or anything, so it'll be nice to have somewhere else we can go."
"You thinkin' of coming here?"Spike asked, a little alarmed. This house, this basement, seemed like a sanctuary, a place that was his and Dawn's alone.
She laughed. "Only when we can't go to the dorms or something. You know, if my roommate won't clear out. I mean, we can be at the hotel, but Angel and company still think we're just friends." Dawn rolled her eyes again, this time demonstrating her opinion of Angel's cluelessness. "I think Connor's going to try and get his own place soon, though. I mean, he's definitely old enough."
That didn't sound quite right to Spike either. The thought of Dawn and her boyfriend—any boy really—alone in said boy's apartment—"Dawn, you know—"
"Don't say it," she warned him. "I'm eighteen, and I'm old enough to make my own decisions."
Spike sighed. "Fine. Just—I don't want to know, alright? He seems like a decent kid, but if he lays a finger on you, I'll have to rip it off."
Dawn laughed, long used to Spike's expressions of violence, was no longer phased, if she ever had been. "Right, Spike. You know, that threat worked just as well the first time you used it."
"He didn't bother you again, did he?" the vampire asked with a smirk.
Dawn stared at him. "You—you came up. I thought—" She stopped. It had been her junior year in high school, and one of the jocks had asked her on a date. Everything had gone just fine until the little prick had tried to pull a move on her. In classic Summers' fashion, Dawn had put a stop to that, but by the next day, he'd started spreading rumors that she was easy, and had given it up to him right away.
Dawn hadn't wanted to tell Buffy, because she didn't want her sister to think she couldn't take care of herself. Plus, Steve had just left, and her sister was still upset over that. She'd written Spike a letter, and he told her to let him know if the teasing didn't die down, because he'd happily come up and rip the boy's balls off.
The teasing had stopped, life had gone on, but she had no clue that Spike had anything to do with that. "What did you do?" she asked.
"Flashed some fang, told him if you weren't happy, I'd make his life miserable." Spike grinned at her. "What? You thought I wouldn't do it?"
She leaned back against the couch. "I didn't see you!" she protested.
"Way it had to be, luv," Spike said quietly. "I didn't want Buffy to see me, so I kept a low profile. Just found him, scared the shit out of him, and left. Wasn't even in Sunnydale two hours."
She shook her head. "Spike, do you—I mean, are you still in love with Buffy? Are you happy?"
"Sure I'm happy, Sweet Bit," he replied, pulling her head down to rest on his shoulder. "Why wouldn't I be? I can live without the Slayer."
"But you're still Love's Bitch," Dawn said, hearing the emotion in his voice, in spite of Spike's attempts to hide it. She'd wondered for a while now, how he was really doing. Spike put up a good front, most of the time, and Dawn had no doubt that he managed to hide his true feelings from everybody else. But she had spent an entire summer with him, while they both mourned for Buffy, and that was still the Spike she knew. Even though her sister was alive, Spike was still mourning her.
He sighed. "You know me too well. S'pose I always will be," Spike admitted quietly. "And I'm still man enough to admit it."
Dawn didn't say anything else. She ached for him, and could only offer the comfort of her presence.
~~~~~
Spike was rather melancholy the next morning after Dawn had left. He loved having the Niblet around, of course, but it was easier to forget about Buffy when she wasn't there as a constant reminder. It had been the same way the summer that the Slayer was—gone. Spike could have easily spent the entire 147 days in a bottle or in a fight, just to try and forget her. He couldn't do that and keep his promise, however, and so he had lived with Dawn's presence the same way you live with a toothache. Truth was, he hadn't wanted to forget, and he'd welcomed the reminder.
Now, however—well, now the best times were when he and Wesley were going after a demon, when every fiber of his being had to be focused on the event at hand, rather than on lost chances and lost loves. It wasn't that he wanted to think of Buffy all the time, but Spike couldn't get her out of his head. He wondered how she was doing, what she had made of her life, was she even happy to be alive...
Angrily, he rose from the couch and started pacing. There had to be something he could do, but he'd already asked Nika. She knew all about blessings and curses from her grandmother, and if anyone could have helped him forget the Slayer, it would have been her. Instead, she'd simply told him that the only cure was time, and there really wasn't anything she could do for him. Spike didn't actually blame her. Nika had explained that there were a couple curses she could do, but the consequences could be fairly grievous, like not remembering any of the Scoobies, including Dawn. He hadn't wanted that.
And as she'd pointed out, if she had something to take away the pain of a broken heart, she would have used it on herself just as quickly as on someone else. The only cure possible was time, and that—unfortunately—was something Spike had all too much of.
With an angry growl, he slammed his fist into the punching bag that hung in the center of the room. Nika had gotten it for him for Christmas, after he'd punched the concrete wall one too many times. He hit it again, his fists repeatedly ramming into the bag, until his knuckles were scraped and he left smears of blood on the canvas.
"You know, I got that bag for you so you didn't have to bang yourself up every time you lost your temper," Nika said from behind him.
Spike turned, surprised. She so rarely came down without an invitation, that it was something of a shock. "What are you—"
"I heard the banging, and I thought I'd come check on you," she replied softly. "Look, I'm sorry for intruding. I could—"
She turned to go, and he put a hand on her arm. "No, 's alright, luv. Stay. Maybe you can keep me from doin' any more damage to myself."
Nika took one of his hands and inspected the scrapes. "They aren't bad. You'll probably be half-healed before I could get back down here with my first-aid kit."
"Vampire," he replied. "One of the advantages, anyway." He let her lead him over to the couch. She sat close to him, leaning her head on his chest. They were both very tactile people. One of the hardest things for her, after her husband died, was that there was so very little physical affection. Spike needed the physical proximity as much as she did, however, and they had been able to comfort each other a bit.
He held her close, thinking of how rarely he'd been able to do this with anyone since Drusilla. lthough, the vampiress hadn't been into comfort-touch as much as pain. He sighed. "What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinkin' that this is right nice, Sweet." Spike hadn't realized how badly Buffy and her friends treated him until he met Nika, and later, Wesley. Though both of them had every reason to hate vampires, they treated him like a human being, and expected him to act like one. No longer was he constantly reminded that he was some sort of evil thing. And it was that respect that demanded he give them respect in return.
He could admit to himself that it was no longer not wanting Buffy to be right that kept him from hunting, it was thinking about what Wesley or Nika would say if they found out he had fed. It was knowing how badly Nika had been hurt by having vampires snack on her loved ones—knowing that he would be hurting someone else just as badly. Spike had never really understood how you could care about people you'd never met—he still couldn't. What he could do was very clearly picture the disappointment on Nika's face, someone who had never treated him with anything but kindness. He wouldn't do that to her.
"Are you really okay, cariad?" she asked quietly. "I know you still miss her."
"Every damn day," he admitted. "When am I bloody well goin' to get over her?" Spike demanded. "How long does it take to get someone out of your head? 's been three years, an' she treated me like crap for all but about two of the days we were together."
Nika leaned in closer, as much for his comfort as her own. Spike was such a solid sort of person, even though most would never know it to see him. Once he counted you as his to protect, however, heaven forbid someone cause you problems. He would take on the whole world for someone he loved, for "his humans" as he called them.
"I don't know, Spike," she said. "Everybody's different. It's okay that it's taking you a while. I know it may not feel okay, but it is."
He gave a bitter little laugh. "I don't want to get over her, Nika-luv. She was—she was my whole damn world."
"I know," Nika said. "I know."
Spike swallowed hard and pulled her closer. "An' what about you, luv? You still miss him?"
"Every damn day," Nika said, echoing his words from earlier. "But less. It's changed—the pain has. I miss him, but it's not the same as it was. Maybe that's the difference between being human and being a vampire—time moves differently for us, faster. We don't have the luxury of not being able to let go if we want to live."
"Maybe," Spike said. "I was with Dru for over a hundred years. Stayed faithful to her all that time. She was my black goddess, my ripe wicked plum. She was my everything."
"Then maybe it'll just take you a little longer to get over Buffy. How long did it take you with Drusilla?" Nika asked.
Spike thought about that for a moment, and then said, "A couple years, I s'pose. At least that. Wasn't until I figured out I was in love with the Slayer that I realized I wasn't in love with Dru anymore."
"Then maybe you just need to meet some nice girl that will take your mind off her," Nika suggested with a sly grin.
He raised an eyebrow. "Some nice girl like you?" he queried. "'f I remember right, that didn't go so well for either one of us."
"Oh, it went well enough. It's just the feeling wasn't there. Neither one of us was ready to move on," she replied. "You'd be a catch for anyone, Spike."
"If you can ignore the fact that I don't go out in the daylight, avoid mirrors, and drink blood, yeah," he replied sarcastically.
"Oh, don't be that way," Nika scolded. "Trust me. Good men are rare enough that a girl would overlook those quirks in a heartbeat."
"Which I don't have," he pointed out.
"You're faithful, intelligent—even though you'd hardly know it—and loyal, that's a lot," Nika said.
Spike smiled at her. "You have a way of makin' a bloke feel better, you know that?" When her only reply was a smug smile, he went on. "But I asked about you, luv. You ready to be movin' on yet?"
Nika tried to pull away from him, but Spike tightened his grip, keeping it gentle. "Luv, 's all right to move on, be happy. Everythin' you've told me about him says he'd want that."
"He would," she sighed, giving up. Spike wasn't going to let it go until she talked about it. Persistence was a good thing, but it could grate on a person as well. "I don't know, Spike. I think I could fall in love again, but—I promised myself when Danny died that I wouldn't fall in love with another man who had a dangerous profession."
"And you fancy Wesley," he said, prodding her to go on when she paused.
Nika sighed. "I'm already half in love with him. He's completely different than Danny, but he has all the same qualities that I admire in a man. And his profession is about as dangerous as they come. I won't ask him to give that up. He wouldn't be Wesley if he did."
Spike gave her shoulders a squeeze. "He's got me lookin' after him. That counts for somethin', right?"
"That counts for a lot," she assured him. "I just—I don't know if he really likes me or not. I know he's had heart troubles of his own, and I don't want..."
"You've got to take a chance if you want to know," Spike pointed out.
"Unless you told me," Nika said, turning so she could look him in the face. "Has he said anything to you?"
Spike shook his head. "Now, luv, you know that's somethin' I can't tell you. It'd be betrayin' a confidence, an' that's just evil." He grinned at her. "Of course, I never pretended not to be a little evil still."
"So he does like me?" Nika asked. "Really? I—What am I going to do?"
"What do you want to do?"
Nika fell back against his shoulder. "I don't know, Spike. I really don't know. I want—I like him. You know that. And I'm scared of losing someone I love again. All I ever wanted, since I was a little girl, was to be a midwife, get married, have kids, take care of people. I know it's silly and old fashioned, but that's what I dreamed of. And now—"
"And if you fall in love with Wesley, you think you'll have to give that dream up?" Spike asked.
Nika shook her head. "Wesley's not the 'get married, have a couple kids' kind of guy. I don't even think he believes he'll live long enough to get around to it."
"Or, he doesn't think he deserves it," Spike suggested softly. He had come to know the former Watcher quite well over the past couple years, and he knew that Wesley presented a strong front. Inside, however, he seemed to have a strong belief that he had little to nothing to offer someone. If you wanted a guy to translate a text, or kill a demon, you called on Wesley; if you wanted a boyfriend, he didn't think himself worthy of the honor.
Nika's eyes lit up with indignation. "Of course, he deserves it. I mean, he'd—" She stopped. "You're telling me I'm going to have to make the first move, aren't you?"
He grinned at her. "Nothin' like a girl comin' onto a bloke to give him a nice wake-up call, but yeah. If you go for it, he'll fall in line. But Wesley needs a bit of encouragement." Spike gave her a pat on the shoulder. "You let me know when, an' I'll clear out for you two."
Nika rolled her eyes at him. "And what about you? You deserve a little happiness too, Spike."
"Maybe one of these days," he replied, not quite meeting her eyes. "Maybe someday, luv. Till then, I'll just have to settle for seein' my friends happy."
~~~~~
Dawn entered her dorm room and tossed her backpack on the bed. She was lucky she and her roommate didn't see much of each other, she supposed. After hearing Buffy's horror story about her first college roommate, Dawn had no desire to repeat history. So far, however, Miranda was usually gone while she was here (with her boyfriend, of course), or Dawn made herself scarce while Miranda was using the room.
The red light on the answering machine was blinking, telling her that someone had left a message. Dawn hit the play button, and started unloading her pack as she listened. "Hey, Dawn. It's your sister. Look, I don't want to bug you, but if you get a chance, could you call me? It's kinda important. Love you."
There was a long beep as the message rewound, and Dawn quickly hit the delete button. Sighing, she tried to figure out if she really wanted to call Buffy, or if she wanted to pretend to be too busy and call later. She was still a little upset with her sister after her talk with Spike earlier. It wasn't like Spike wanted her to not like Buffy—hardly. It was just that every time Dawn talked to her, she remembered Spike's face that day in his crypt, the day he'd left. She remembered how bruised he'd been. And she remembered that yet another person had left her, and that this time it was because of Buffy. It had been hard to feel close to her after that.
It had been hard to want to feel close.
But Buffy was her sister, her only real family, even though Spike, Nika, and Wesley were a family of sorts, a home away from home. Spike and his friends were the only reason that Dawn didn't feel completely alone in L.A. Even if her dad was supposed to be here, he never was. She hadn't even seen Hank since she'd come to school. Nika kept her stocked up with home-baked goodies, however, and Spike played the big brother to the hilt. Even Wesley was beginning to warm up and even smile more than once or twice a night. Because of them, she really didn't miss Sunnydale at all.
Still, she kept coming back to the fact that Buffy was her sister.
Dawn picked up the phone and dialed the familiar number. It was probably better to find out what was going on sooner, rather than later. With Buffy's luck, it would be an apocalypse of some kind.
~~~~~
Buffy picked up the phone on the first ring, hoping it was Dawn. She hadn't spoken with any of her friends yet. She'd had a day and a night to think about it, and hadn't slept at all in between. Being pregnant was something to get used to, for sure, but it had made her think, made her re-evaluate a number of things.
The funny thing was, thinking about it, she didn't regret Peter leaving at all. Buffy realized that she'd always known he would go, at a certain level. It had nothing to do with thinking that all guys left, but realizing that she'd been using Peter, just as much as he'd been using her. Getting pregnant hadn't been in the plans, but she would deal.
No, looking back over the past three years, Buffy didn't really regret any of the guys she'd dated leaving. They had been stand-ins, fillers to scratch an itch and take her mind off things. Mostly nice guys who had wanted her as much as she wanted them. In dating them, she'd avoided all the pitfalls she'd had with Riley. Never again did she want to get involved with someone who loved her more than she loved him.
What she regretted most was a particular night in an alley, and a particular guy leaving. Buffy could admit—now—that Spike had loved her, had been in love with her. He had done everything in his power to do all that she had asked of him. If staying around and looking after a dead woman's sister wasn't proof positive, Buffy didn't know what was anymore.
And she missed him. There, in her bed, sleepless, three months pregnant and three years too late, Buffy could finally admit that she missed him. He had loved her, and she had beaten him to a bloody pulp and left him in an alley, little caring if he was still there when the sun came up.
When she thought of those nights in his crypt, when all he did was sit with her, when he was the only one who could soothe her—
Buffy had cried. She'd cried all night, and had somehow come to a conclusion during that time. Falling asleep around daybreak, she woke and immediately called Dawn, knowing from experience that her sister was never in her dorm on Thursday night. Dawn needed to know about Peter, and the baby that was coming. Buffy needed to know what Dawn knew about Spike.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Buffy," Dawn said. "You said you wanted to talk to me. It isn't another apocalypse, right? Because midterms are coming up."
Buffy hesitated. Now that she was actually talking to her sister, she wasn't sure what to say or how to begin. "Yeah, uh, you know, it probably isn't that important..." She stopped. "I—Peter left."
"Oh." Dawn couldn't say she was disappointed about that. She'd never liked Peter. "Well, do you want me to come up this weekend? If you need me to, I will."
Buffy laughed a little. "No, I'm really okay, Dawnie. A little disappointed maybe, but okay. Peter was a jerk."
"I won't argue with you," Dawn said, relieved. She'd planned on spending the weekend studying and seeing Connor in her free time. "But you're doing all right?"
"I'm fine," Buffy assured her again. "There's something else though. The reason we broke up, I mean." There was a long pause, in which Dawn started feeling a little anxious. "I'm pregnant."
Buffy waited for her sister's reaction. "You're what?" Dawn asked. "Buffy—wait. Peter left because you got pregnant? What a bastard!"
The Slayer didn't even bother telling Dawn to watch her language. "I know. We've agreed, though. I don't ask him for any support, and he has no right to interfere in any way. It's fair. I'd rather not have him in my life if he's not even going to be interested in the baby. I think it'll be better in the long run."
Both sisters were thinking of their largely-absentee father, and Dawn voiced her agreement. "Yeah, you're probably right. Have you told anybody yet? Giles, or the rest of the gang?"
"No, you're the first," Buffy replied. "I wanted you to know. I'm planning on calling Giles tomorrow, when the time matches up a little better, and I'll tell Willow and Xander next time I see them."
Dawn was quiet. She felt honored that Buffy would want her to be the first to know, and a little guilty about her impatience with her sister earlier. "What are you going to do about the Slaying?"
"I don't know," Buffy confessed. "I'll have to get help, I suppose. The Hellmouth has been fairly quiet now for a while, so maybe I'll get a break for once."
Dawn sat down on her bed heavily, thinking about what Buffy had just told her. This wasn't going to work. If Buffy was still the Slayer, even after the baby was born, she'd need someone around to look after the kid. "Maybe I should think about transferring to U.C. Sunnydale," she said slowly, hating herself for even suggesting it. She didn't want to go back to Sunnydale. "I mean, you'll probably need someone there to help out, and—"
"Don't even think about it," Buffy replied firmly. "You've got a good thing going in L.A., Dawnie. I'll be fine here.We'll figure something out."
Dawn was doubly relieved, both that Buffy wouldn't have let her move, and that she didn't have to feel guilty for not offering. "Okay."
Buffy hesitated, and then said, "Do you think I could come down and see you? Not this weekend, but maybe next? There's something else I wanted to talk to you about."
"What else?" Dawn asked, wondering what the next big revelation was going to be.
"It's about Spike," Buffy said slowly. "I was wondering if you knew where he was."
Dawn knew the rules. Spike had been very specific about not telling Buffy where he was unless she asked. He hadn't said that she had to tell the Slayer anything, however, and Dawn was feeling rather protective of Spike at the moment. Her sister had gotten a lot better over the last few years, but that didn't mean she wouldn't wind up beating the shit out of him again. Dawn wasn't about to let that happen.
"Why do you want to know, Buffy?" Dawn asked.
Buffy sighed. "I know he's been writing to you. I just—I've just been thinking about him a lot lately. I—I want to know if he's okay."
"You couldn't have asked earlier?" Dawn demanded, built-up anger spilling out. "Buffy, it's been three years, and after what you did to him, I'm not sure I should tell you where he is."
Buffy swallowed hard. "I know. I—if I gave you a letter, could you get it to him? I want to—I want to apologize. Thinking about Spike, and thinking about everything else that's gone on, I just realized how badly..." She trailed off. She did want to apologize, even though she hated having to say she was sorry. What do you say to someone that you did that to, anyway?
"He's in L.A.," Dawn said, making a decision. She didn't know what Buffy's motives were for finally getting her head out of her ass, but Spike still wasn't over her sister. And it was obvious that her sister still thought about Spike. "I won't tell you where, but I can get a letter or something to him."
"Is he doing okay?" Buffy asked, suddenly wanting to know. Wanting to know if he'd gotten over her, wanting to know if he was happy.
Dawn sighed. "He's okay, Buffy. You might as well know he's got the chip out."
"He's not hunting, is he?" Buffy asked in a rather small voice.
"No, he's not hunting, not humans anyway. He's helping Wesley kill demons and he lives in a lady's basement. It's a pretty nice place." Dawn paused. "I still see him about once a week, or more."
Buffy tried to digest that bit of news. Spike had the chip out, he wasn't feeding, and he was still killing demons. With Wesley, no less. "Wesley, my ex-Watcher?"
"Yeah," Dawn replied, warming up to the subject a little. "You know he isn't with Angel anymore, right? He and Spike work together now. I think they're doing pretty good. And Wes is getting pretty attached to Nika—that's Spike's landlord. I was over there last night. Nika's cool. Her house is kind of a home away from home."
Buffy could hear the happiness in her sister's voice, and she couldn't help but feel a little jealous. It sounded as though Dawn had made a place for herself in L.A., some place that wasn't Sunnydale, that wasn't with her. She knew she really didn't have anyone to blame but herself, but she couldn't help but feel a little sad. "I'm glad."
Dawn could hear the disappointment in her sister's voice. She sighed. If Buffy was going to come up next weekend, she'd find out anyway—in for a penny, in for a pound. "I'm also dating somebody."
"Who?"
"His name's Connor. He's Angel's son."
Buffy suddenly felt numb. "How?When? Dawn, how old—"
"He's twenty, two years older than me," Dawn explained quickly. "He was born a few years ago, actually, and then he got sent to this Hell dimension, where time moves differently, so he came back already grown up. That's why Wesley's not with Angel anymore. He had something to do with why Connor got taken, but it really wasn't completely his fault. There was a prophecy, but it was fake, and he didn't know, and then this guy—Holtz—took Connor to get to Angel, and—"
"Stop, Dawn," Buffy said, and she suddenly sounded like General Buffy, which she only did in the middle of emergencies and apocalypses. "I didn't get most of that, but I'll be up next weekend. At which point, you can tell me the whole story, including details on what Connor is like. And what Spike is up to." The Slayer sighed. At this point, she didn't give a damn if Spike was feeding on people. He probably wouldn't have even tried to get the chip out if it weren't for her. Her sister sounded happy, Spike was okay. That was all that mattered.
"If I send you a letter for him, will you make sure he gets it?" Buffy asked.
Dawn didn't need to ask who Buffy was referring to. "Yeah. I'll give it to him." Suddenly, sisterly loyalty took over, and Dawn blurted out, "Buffy—he still misses you. I don't know if that means anything, but he still misses you."
"I miss him, too," Buffy replied. She suddenly wanted
to cry again. She missed him so much, and she'd burned every bridge.