Subject: [SpikesSalvation] Normal's a Place in Illinois- Chapter 2
Date: Sun, 16 Nov 2003 10:42:57 -0800 (PST)
From: Jerusha Hancock <enigmaticblue@yahoo.com>
Reply-To: SpikesSalvation@yahoogroups.com
To: SpikesSalvation@yahoogroups.com


Chapter 2: It's Nice to Belong to Someone

"Home is where there's someone to love you." ~Charles Swain


Buffy looked up from the salad she was making to see Spike wander into the 
kitchen. "You look like you're feeling better," she said, greeting him with a 
smile.

"S'pose I am. Was gettin' a bit sick of that bed." He sat down at the table 
carefully, and Buffy could see that he was still weak. Just the walk down the 
stairs had tired him out, but the doctor had told her to expect that. He'd said 
it could be a couple of weeks or more before he regained even some of his 
strength, and it would be longer than that before they could reverse the 
effects of the malnutrition.

He'd been sleeping pretty much constantly over the last two days, waking only 
long enough to eat and drink, but he'd needed it. And the fever had finally 
broken yesterday, so he wasn't as flushed as he had been. "It's probably not 
the best thing for you, but do you want a cup of coffee?" she asked.

"Sure. Sounds good." He took the mug she set in front of him gratefully, and 
then looked over at her, puzzled, as she sat down in front of him.

"I think we need to talk," she said seriously.

His face grew very still, and he nodded warily. "What about?"

"We need to talk about your options. Xander and I were talking, and he has a 
spare bedroom in his apartment, so you could move in with him if you want. Or, 
you could stay here. It's up to you." She waited for his answer, not sure what 
he would say.

He looked down at the table, tracing the grain with his finger. "I can leave 
whenever you want me to, Slayer."

Her eyes widened as she realized what he meant. "Spike, I don't want you to 
leave. I'm just talking about options here."

"So you just asked Xander if he would mind if the guy he hates moves in with 
him because you wanted to give me an option?" His tone was bitter, and Buffy 
wasn't sure she blamed him. She'd been all too ready to get rid of him as fast 
as she could in the past.

"Spike," she began, reaching across the table to touch his hand. He pulled it 
out of her reach, and she bit her lip. "I told you. I don't want you to leave, 
but I do want you to do what's best for you. I wasn't sure if staying here was 
the best thing, if you even wanted to be around me."

He looked up at her, gazing into her eyes for a long time. "What do you want, 
Slayer?"

"This isn't about what I want, Spike," she said quietly.

"Humor me."

"Fine," she replied, her tone holding a tinge of anger. "What I want is to go 
back to before. We were friends, at least for a while, after I came back. And 
before that, we could talk. That's what I want."

"D'you seriously think we could be friends?" he asked, his tone incredulous and 
hopeful at the same time.

"Weren't we, once?"

Spike hesitated, and then said quietly, "I still love you, Buffy. Whatever 
happened between the two of us, whatever you did to me, or me to you, I still 
love you. Always will, y'know."

"I know." Buffy looked off into the distance. "I'm not saying that I love you, 
Spike, or even that I will, but I feel something for you. Frankly, I think you 
and Xander would probably end up killing each other if you took that option. 
And I really don't want you dead."

He chuckled, the closest thing she'd heard to a laugh from him since his 
return. "Well, it's not everyone gets a second chance, so if it makes you feel 
any better, I don't really want to be dead m'self." He looked thoughtful. 
"Should probably let you have your room back, though. Been in there long 
enough."

"No, no, and a whole world of no," Buffy said, rising and returning to her 
salad. "I've been looking for an excuse to redo my old room anyway. This is the 
perfect opportunity."

"I don't want to take your bedroom, Slayer. I don't need the big one. Can sleep 
in the other room, or even on the couch just as easily." He actually looked a 
bit distressed that he was putting her out, and she shook her head.

"Hello? Master bedroom comes with master bathroom. I can't imagine the damage 
it would do to Dawn if she accidentally walked in on you in the shower some 
day. Chances of that happening are much reduced if you stay put." She smiled at 
him. "Really, I don't mind at all."

He hesitated, then nodded. "If you think it's best, then."

"I really do," she said firmly. "By the way, Xander and Willow are coming over 
for dinner later. They pitched in and got me a grill for Christmas. You 
wouldn't believe the difference it makes in my menu. For some reason, I can 
grill a lot better than I cook. Anyway, we're having burgers."

She looked back at him and saw he was busy fiddling with his coffee cup. "I 
want you to eat with us, Spike."

He looked up and then away. "If you want me to."

She tried to make her voice as firm as possible. "If you're going to live here, 
you're going to be considered part of the family."

He looked up and met her eyes, something akin to happiness kindling in their 
depths. "I'd probably better get cleaned up, then."

"You might want to take a nap, too," she called after his retreating back. She 
stared at the tomato she'd placed on the cutting board thoughtfully. 'Is this 
really going to work?' she wondered. Trying to put him back together at the 
same time she was trying to figure her own feelings out was foolish. She shook 
off her doubts. What mattered at this point was Spike. Once he was back on his 
feet, and a little more steady, she could determine whether her feelings for 
him stemmed from the same maternal instict that came out around Dawn and her 
friends, or if they went deeper than that.

~~~~~

Spike hadn't planned on taking a nap. He'd showered, and gone out to look over 
the clothes Buffy had managed to salvage from the crypt. She'd apparently 
gotten him a few new t-shirts over the past couple days as well, which varied 
his choices slightly. While he debated, he happened to glance at the bed he'd 
just made, and realized how tired he was, just from the walk downstairs and 
that conversation with Buffy. 'Just for a moment,' he thought, stretching out 
on the bed.

The next thing he knew was a knock on the door, and Buffy sticking her head 
through. "Spike? Xander and Willow should be here in about half an hour, just 
to let you know. Do you want to eat?"

He pushed himself up from the bed, realizing belatedly that he was wearing 
nothing but a towel, and that it was slipping alarmingly. "Yeah. I'll be down 
in a minute, Slayer." He waited until she shut the door, and then quickly 
dressed in his usual black jeans and black tee. Lucky for him, he had more than 
one pair and he'd left a lot of stuff behind. Luckier still he could get them 
to fit, as much weight as he'd lost. He'd have to see about putting a few 
pounds back on so he didn't look so much like those famine victims he'd seen 
while in Africa.

He checked himself in the mirror, still slightly amazed at his own reflection, 
and not liking it very much. He had a hard enough time looking other people in 
the eyes, let alone himself. As odd as it was, he was glad Buffy had clipped 
his hair as short as she had. Shorter than it had ever been, that was for sure, 
but it was easier to take care of, and it was nothing like he'd ever had 
before, which seemed fitting. He was nothing like he'd ever been before.

He came down the stairs just as Xander and Willow walked in the front door. 
"Hey, Spike," Willow greeted him. "You're looking a lot better than you were 
when I saw you last time."

"Thanks, Red. Feelin' better." He squinted at her slightly. "You sat with me 
for a while."

"Yeah, when Buffy went on patrol," she replied, pleased that he'd remembered. 
"You were still a little out of it."

"Been out of it for months, Red," he replied, a little of his old humor seeping 
back into his voice. "Only recently been feeling human."

There was a long pause as they all considered what he'd said, and the tips of 
Spike's ears turned red. "I meant—you know. Bloody hell."

Xander took pity on him. "Come on, Spike," he said, taking the other man by the 
arm. "I brought the beer."

The dinner went a lot better than Spike had anticipated. Mostly, he just sat 
back and let the talk wash over him. It felt good though, better than hanging 
out with the gang had in the past. Before, he'd always felt as though he were 
on the outside, and there was even a little of that now, he supposed, but every 
so often Buffy or Willow or Dawn would look over at him. Or one of them would 
ask him a question, and it was obvious that they weren't trying to pretend he 
wasn't there.

After a while, the talk turned to Tara, reminiscing. It was natural, he knew, 
to remember the dead, to talk about them so their memory didn't die. You could 
tell where people were in the healing process by listening to them talk about 
their loved ones a lot of times. When they could laugh over some remembered 
joke or anecdote, that was when you knew the wound was closing up, that they 
would be all right.

He listened as they talked about some joke Tara had told about Glory. No one 
had understood what she was talking about at the time, though if you got the 
reference, it was quite witty, and just what he would have expected from the 
shy Wiccan. "Good thing you were around, Spike," Willow commented, causing him 
to look up sharply.

"What's that, Red?" he asked.

"That was about the time Tara's family showed up, you know. Said she was part 
demon and she had to come back with them?" Willow's eyes were far away as she 
remembered.

Spike snorted indelicately. "Bollocks. Just a stupid story."

Willow shook her head. "Maybe, but Tara didn't think so, and I'm not sure the 
rest of us didn't believe her jerk of a dad for at least a minute. She told me 
later she probably would have gone back with them if you hadn't punched her in 
the nose."

Spike brightened noticeably. "Really? Always felt a bit bad about that. Didn't 
really want to hurt her."

Buffy watched as he and Willow talked, and she knew what her friend was doing. 
When Willow had come back from England, they had done their best to forgive 
her, to let her know that she was still welcome, but it had been hard. What had 
done the most to alleviate her depression was to remind her what she had done 
right. Focus on the positive, as Giles had suggested when he said Willow was 
coming home. She had told the witch that Spike had seemed broken to her, and 
her friend had nodded, saying she understood completely. She was grateful that 
Willow, at least, was willing to give him a chance.

Xander was doing his best to be civil though, and Buffy had to give him credit. 
His reaction to Spike this time around was a lot more mature than it had been 
in the past. And Spike seemed to be doing his best not to aggravate the other 
man. Buffy wondered if he was just trying to keep a low profile, or if it was 
something deeper than that. It was really hard to tell.

Once they'd finished dinner, they all pitched in to help clean up, and Buffy 
noticed that Spike slipped outside onto the back porch as soon as he could. She 
waited until the kitchen was clean, and then let the rest of her friends head 
off to the living room to argue over what movie to watch first. Buffy went out 
the back door and sat down next to him on the steps. "Hey," she greeted him. 
"You left the party."

"'M not used to that many people in a room anymore, I guess. Spent the better 
part of the last year on my own, not talkin' to much of anybody." He looked 
over at her and gave her a bit of a smile.

"It's pretty out tonight, isn't it?" she asked quietly, looking up at the sky.

"You should see the sky in Africa," he murmured. "They're all different stars, 
different constellations, and so clear you think you could reach up and touch 
them."

They sat in silence for a minute, until Buffy said, "I've missed this."

"Missed what?"

"Sitting out here with you, while you smoked or whatever. Just talking." She 
glanced over at him, thinking that he no longer reminded her so much of the 
night. He wasn't as pale, though he was fair skinned, and his hair was darker. 
He was a creature of the day, now, whatever he had been. He belonged to the 
sunlight as much as she did. "Do you remember the first night we sat out here? 
It was right after my mom got diagnosed, and you showed up with a shotgun. And 
then you sat down and listened. It was the best thing anyone could have done 
for me."

He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I was planning on killing you, 
and you looked up at me and you'd been crying. Loved you then, I did."

Buffy hesitated, and then said quietly, "What I said to you, earlier that 
night, about being beneath me? Was that why you wanted to kill me?" She 
remembered that scene so clearly in the alley. He, waiting for her 
acknowledgement, for something from her. She, disgusted with what he'd done, 
and by how he'd told it, as though it were some great thing. Shoving him away, 
tossing the money at him as she realized how heavy the air had become with 
sexual tension. Knowing now how it must have cut to hear her say it, whether he 
had deserved it or not. She had proved her assertion false long ago.

"Aside from the fact that you were the Slayer and I was the slayer of Slayers?" 
he asked, his head cocked slightly to one side. "Yeah. Those are actually the 
exact words the woman I loved said to me right before I got bit. Go figure."

Buffy reached out and touched his arm. "I'm sorry, Spike."

"I was beneath you, Slayer," he replied, looking at her gravely, with no hint 
of his usual playfulness. The old Spike would have taken that and made it into 
some kind of sexual innuendo. This version simply accepted that statement at 
its face value.

"No," she replied simply. "I don't think you were." She looked off into the 
distance, and spoke softly. "After Angel came back from hell or wherever, he 
was pretty much insane. I went to Giles and gave him a hypothetical of if 
someone came back from a demon dimension, what would he be like? He said there 
were two kinds of monsters, the kind that couldn't be redeemed, that would 
always be evil. And then there was the second kind, who both could be redeemed 
and who wanted to be redeemed." She looked over at Spike and waited until he 
met her eyes. "I think you fell into the second category. I just wish I'd seen 
it sooner."

A pained look passed over his face, and he reached up to gently cup her cheek 
in his hand. "I was trying to hide that bit of myself, Buffy. Would have been 
insulted if you'd thought I was anything but evil. We all make our own choices."

"Maybe, but I wish I'd made better ones." She took his hand in hers and gave it 
a squeeze. "The others should have agreed on a movie by now. You want to watch 
one with us?"

Spike hesitated, then nodded. "Think I'd like that, Slayer."

---------------------------------