Author: enigmaticblue <enigmaticblue@yahoo.com>
Rating: Mild R for adult themes and language.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters except for Tim. He's mine. Of course, I don't make money off of any of them. Oh, and the title is from a Patti Griffin song of the same name.
Archive: Anywhere that already has my stuff. Anywhere else, just ask.
Summary: Spike leaves after a slightly altered "Seeing Red," and doesn't come back. This fic is set about five years or so later.
A/N: A few things before we get started.
1) This fic is not Spuffy. Even if you don't normally read anything not Spuffy, I hope you'll stick with me, because I think it'll be good. Who knows? You might surprise yourself by actually liking a different pairing.
2) This fic is darker than my usual. I'm going to be exploring some pretty adult themes including prostitution, sexual abuse, and suicide. It's not going to be graphic, and I'm going to be sensitive, but I wanted to give fair warning.
3) I don't think I really have to say this, but I will anyway. I am not trying to make any kind of political statements with this fic. I'm doing Spara because I like the pairing and for no other reason. Personally, I think sometimes you just fall in love with someone, regardless of gender.
Dedication: For Speaker-to-Customers, who said he wanted me to
try my hand at Spara, and for Heather, who thinks I can write anything,
bless her heart.
Chapter 11
"The real hero is always a hero by mistake; he dreams of being an
honest coward like everybody else." ~Umberto Eco
Tara was quiet on the drive to L.A. She wasn't concerned about the shop, knowing that Tim could be trusted to take care of things. It was Dawn who worried her now, as she hadn't been able to reach the girl and let her know they were going out of town. After the night Dawn spent with the three of them, Tara had hoped she would come around, but it wasn't looking likely.
"You've been quiet, pet."
Spike's warm voice startled Tara out of her thoughts, and she glanced over at him. All that could be seen was a dim outline against black glass, the brightness of his hair and pale skin giving him away. "I've been thinking."
"Care to share?"
She smiled. "About Dawn. I tried to reach her to let her know we were leaving town, but—"
"No good, huh?" Spike asked, disappointment flashing across his face. "I went over there before we left."
"You did?" Tara's voice was colored in by surprise.
"She was properly hung over," Spike said, sounding almost wry, but Tara could hear the pain behind it. "Thought maybe—"
Tara put a hand on his arm. "We both did." She laughed shortly. "Trust me, if I thought it would do any good, I'd put a spell on her that would pound some sense into her head. Or something. I'm just not sure what to do. How did she take the news?"
"'bout like you'd expect. Asked me if I was really comin' back, an' then told me she wasn't sure I was tellin' the truth." Spike rolled his eyes. "Girl's more melodramatic than her sister ever was, an' that's sayin' something."
Tara had to hide her smile, since her traveling companion was something of a drama prince himself. "I have to believe that she's going to grow out of this."
"I think she will," Spike said quietly. "I just hate to see her hurtin'." He chuckled slightly. "'m just glad I didn't have to go through this with Tim. He'd done his teenage rebellion by the time I got him." There was a slight pause, and then Spike said quietly, "I think Tim was just so relieved to have a place to crash, he wasn't goin' to jeapordize it."
"I could see that," Tara admitted. "Too bad some of that common sense hasn't rubbed off on Dawn yet."
Spike laughed. "That would be nice."
They drove for a while in silence, although the quiet in the car was more comfortable. Tara found herself drifting off to sleep, perfectly content knowing that Spike was taking care of things. She supposed it spoke to the strangeness of her life to say that she trusted a vampire more than anyone else, but then again, Spike was a very strange vampire.
~~~~~
Tim found it strange to be home alone. Not that there weren't times when Spike was out and he stayed in, but having the vampire out of town was a completely different story. He didn't remember that happening in the five years they'd lived together.
Luz was good company, to a certain point. As great a dog as she was, she didn't talk back. Tim missed Tara's quiet presence in the shop, and he missed Spike giving him shit when he got home.
While Tim didn't like to admit it, he enjoyed having people look after him. It wasn't that he needed it, since he was certain that he'd be just fine on his own. It was kind of like going back to his childhood and getting everything he'd never gotten from his parents from Spike. Having Tara around, although still novel, was beginning to feel natural as well. It was one of the major reasons Tim wanted to stay in Sunnydale.
You could call anywhere home as long as you had people around you who cared. Spike had taught him that.
The Bronze was merely a distraction to get him through the night. Tim felt restless and didn't want to stay in. Luz would be fine on her own for a few hours. The club was crowded, and most of the tables were filled. Tim saw a few people he recognized from Ryan's party, and he waved a cheerful hello to them without saying much. He was there to watch more than participate.
He got his one beer for the evening and started to circulate among the crowd, frowning when he saw Dawn dancing with some no-neck. For a brief, insane moment, Tim was tempted to go over and cut in, but the guy would probably cream him.
Honestly, Tim hadn't decided if Dawn was worth it yet.
He stopped to chat with a few people he knew at random intervals, asking a few over to play video games and eat pizza the following night. Tim wished he had the nerve to ask Dawn to come but was worried it would sound too much like a date and scare her off.
Tim was just preparing to leave when he heard her voice behind him. "Hey, Tim! What are you up to?"
"Just hanging out," he replied. "The apartment was kind of quiet tonight."
Dawn made a face. "Yeah, with Spike out of town, I guess it would be. He came by the other day, but I was, uh, indisposed."
Tim laughed. "Yeah, so I heard." He faltered slightly. "You, uh, want to come over tomorrow night? Spike and Tara won't be home till the day after, and we were just going to play some video games and eat pizza. It won't be anything exciting, but—"
"I'll be there," Dawn replied, touching him lightly on the arm. She threw a quick glance over her shoulder. "I have to get back, but I'll see you tomorrow. What time?"
"Eight," Tim replied, watching Dawn smile brightly and dash off into the crowd with the sinking feeling that he was going to get his heart trampled all over again.
~~~~~
Spike glanced over at the sleeping figure and smiled. It had been a long time since he'd had someone he could call a friend—not really since Buffy, and that was iffy at best. There had been moments in their relationship when they had tentatively begun moving towards friendship, but it had been derailed.
Who before that? Spike wondered silently. Drusilla had been both his Sire and his lover, but he had never had a true partnership with her. She had required too much care for that. Angelus had been something of a brother, until he'd betrayed that trust by proving that he could take Drusilla whenever he wanted.
There had been the odd minion who had been slightly more than that—Dalton had occasionally been good for a conversation, for example. But his life had been largely void of friendship.
Tim was becoming a friend, but Spike thought of him more as a younger brother—as family, someone to take care of.
Tara was an equal.
She didn't stir as he went to check into their hotel room. She'd insisted they share, since it would save them both money . Spike had pointed out that he could easily pay for two rooms if she would feel more comfortable, but she had just laughed at him. "I think I can trust you to be a gentleman, Spike."
He loved hearing her laugh.
"Tara-luv, we're here," he called softly as he parked in front of their room. When she didn't stir, Spike tried again, shaking her with a gentle hand. "Tara, we're here. You have to wake up, luv, unless you want me to carry you in."
She stirred sleepily. "I'm too heavy."
"Not hardly . Not for me, pet. Come on, I'll grab your bag." He was as good as his word, grabbing both their bags from the trunk and opening the door before handing her a key-card. "Apparently, they've got a hot tub," Spike told her with a smile. "Good thing we decided to stay over an extra night, huh?"
Tara shook her head. "I don't have a swimming suit, Spike."
"So?" he replied. "We'll wait till everyone's gone an' just go with what we've got."
"I'm not going skinny-dipping in a public place!" Tara protested. "You don't know who might see us."
Spike's grin widened. "An' that's most of the fun. 's an adrenalin rush wonderin' if you goin' to get caught."
Tara's eyes narrowed. "Vampires don't have a working endocrine system," she pointed out. "Ergo, no adrenalin."
"Doesn't mean we don't get excited," Spike replied.
She stared at him a moment before bursting into laughter, her sleepiness dissipating. "You're insane!"
"Been accused of that before," he admitted. "Come on now. You have to admit the idea has a certain appeal."
It did. That was the scary part. Spike seemed to bring out the worst—best?—in her, daring her to take chances Tara had long thought never to take again. He never truly encouraged irresponsibility, but he did have a knack for inciting a little harmless mayhem.
Spike, in fact, seemed to encourage those around him to live life to the fullest. From what little she knew about Tim's past, Tara suspected that it would have been all too easy for the boy to surrender to death. Instead, Spike saved him.
"Not tonight," Tara finally said. "But I'll see what I can find tomorrow. Sitting in a hot tub sounds like fun." She frowned. "Aren't we going to have trouble, though? Getting you back home without getting too badly singed?"
"Tint on the windows is dark enough," Spike assured her. "It's actually illegal, but as long as I don't give the cops too good a reason to pull me over it's fine. That, an' I'm plannin' on checkin' out before first light."
Tara made a face. She wasn't completely averse to mornings, but that was a little too early for her. "Ugh. Well, if we must, we must."
"'fraid so, pet. Look at it this way though," he suggested. "If we stay up all night, it'll just be really late, an' not early. And you can sleep on the way."
"I could help drive, you know," Tara pointed out.
"My Mustang?" Spike replied with a raised eyebrow. "Don't think so. You goin' to sleep now, pet?"
He kept calling her that, Tara noticed. He called her by her name as well, but Spike always seemed to be using a nickname or endearment for people. Somehow, she didn't mind as she might have with someone else. "Yeah." Her words were punctuated with a yawn. "I think so."
Spike allowed Tara to use the bathroom first, flipping through the channels on the TV until she climbed between the sheets. He'd taken the bed closest to the door, and Tara wondered if there was a specific reason, or if he just liked that one better for some reason.
The darkness seemed to fill up the room once all the lights were off—fill it up and yet comfort her. Spike made no sound, but it was easy to remember that he was only a few feet away from her. It seemed like the next best thing to sharing a bed.
That was what Tara missed the most. She missed sharing a bed with someone, cuddling with them, holding and being held. The space next to her felt all the more empty for having once been filled.
"Spike?"
"Yeah?"
"Tell me about yourself."
There was a faint chuckle from his direction. Tara wasn't certain she'd even be able to see her hand in front of her face with curtains tightly drawn to prevent any stray sunbeams—and incidentally street lights. "You know everythin' there is to know."
"I don't know anything about you before you were turned."
Tara felt the silence that followed. Spike, for his part, was stunned. No one had ever asked about that. Dawn had asked a few questions the summer Buffy had been gone, but she'd wanted him to tell her stories of her mom and her sister over and over again. Spike had dredged up every memory he had of every meeting between himself and the Slayer—and Joyce. Tim, after the first few tentative questions, had stopped asking. Spike simply hadn't told him anything at all.
Oddly enough, Spike thought Tara might understand. "Nothin' much to tell." More quiet laughter, but this time with a bitter quality. "I was a gentleman, born an' bred. My father died when I was young, an' my mum was the one that raised me mostly. An' then she got sick."
"What happened?"
It was easier to speak the words into the air, to know that Tara was close by but not to be able to see her. If he tried, he could make her out, but Spike didn't want to try. "There was a party," he said quietly. "The girl I loved was there, an' I was workin' on a poem about her." He waited for her laughter, but it never came. "Some gits read it out loud, an' she figured it out. Was pretty obvious I had it bad for her. She asked me, an' I told her, an' then she told me to get lost."
Spike couldn't even bear repeat her words, although they were burned on his memory. "Met Dru in an alley after I ran out in tears. Told you I was really a poncy git."
The raw pain in his voice was a century old, Tara realized. She had no doubt that it had followed him for every one of the years he'd been alive—so to speak. It was no wonder that Buffy had nearly driven him crazy, and the witch had to wonder how much the Slayer knew. "You're not a 'poncy git,' Spike, whatever that means. Did Buffy know any of this?"
"No." The word was cut short, hurt sharpening its edges. "She asked 'bout the Slayers I killed, but I spun her some story I'd worked up. Went better with the image."
Tara found herself oddly gratified that she was the only one who knew this story. "Thank you for telling me."
"Didn't think it would matter to you."
"It does," she replied softly into the darkness. "But not for the reasons you're thinking."
~~~~~
Tim found himself grateful for Luz's company in the shop the next day. They stayed fairly busy, but during the slow times he found himself incredibly bored. He'd re-read all the books he normally carried around with him, which meant he'd need to find the Sunnydale library pretty soon, or a good used bookstore.
There were, of course, all the magic books, but they held no interest for him.
When Dawn walked in, he looked up in surprise and pleasure. "Hey. What's up?"
"Not much," Dawn replied, looking around. The place was looking good. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop in."
"You still gonna be able to make it tonight?" Tim asked, trying not to sound to eager.
Dawn was torn. She wanted to go; she knew that it would probably be a better option than the one she was considering, but the frat party would allow her a chance to let off some steam. Midterms were coming up in a day or two, and Dawn was beginning to feel the pressure.
"I don't know, Tim," she replied. "I should probably study." She caught the way his face fell slightly, and Dawn realized that he was beginning to have more than friendly feelings for her. "But maybe we could just hang out today," she suggested. "I've got some homework with me, but—"
"That would be cool," Tim said immediately. "I mean, if you want to, and if you won't be too distracted."
The guilt deepened. She hated lying. Dawn was good at it, but she still hated it. Sometimes, she just couldn't seem to help herself. "No," she said quickly. "I used to study here all the time back when—" she faltered slightly. "It was my favorite spot."
"Great," he replied. "That's—great."
Dawn tried to remind herself that it wouldn't do any good to get attached. Sooner or later Spike would leave, and then Tim would go with him. So she was doing both of them a favor.