Subject: [SpikesSalvation] Normal's A Place in Illinois- Chapter 7
Date: Fri, 21 Nov 2003 15:09:19 -0800 (PST)
From: Jerusha Hancock <enigmaticblue@yahoo.com>
Reply-To: SpikesSalvation@yahoogroups.com
To: SpikesSalvation@yahoogroups.com


Chapter 7: Baggage

"I guess you could say I'm a little afraid./What if you go away?/
I've seen it before./
I've been here before./
If I have to love myself, tell me how to love myself./
What's there to love about myself?/
I just want to see as a person you want me./
But I'm feeling the pain of all these bags in the way,/
and I'm thinking you're just gonna run away,/
and I can't catch you./ 
I guess I would say that I want you to stay./
'Cause you have this strange knack,/ 
adds a glow to my black as you chase it all away./
And I hope that you can see that I will someday leave these things./
I am waiting to be free./
But I'm feeling the pain of all these bags in the way,/
and I'm thinking you're just gonna run away,/
and I can't catch you./
Oh, I want to catch you." ~Sixpence None the Richer


"You do realize that Dawn's birthday is this week, don't you?" Buffy walked 
next to Spike on patrol, their arms brushing occasionally.

His eyes widened in alarm. "Bloody hell," he muttered.

"Ooh. I guess not. I am so going to tell her you forgot," she teased.

"I did not forget," he protested indignantly. "I just didn't realize it was 
this week. You could have reminded me earlier you know. What the hell am I 
going to get her now?" At the look on Buffy's face he stood stock still. "Wait 
a soddin' minute. You didn't tell me on purpose. What plan is stewing in that 
devious little brain of yours?"

Buffy hesitated, and then decided to come clean. "Look, I know you don't have a 
lot of money right now—"

"Try any money," Spike mumbled. "Don't get paid for another couple weeks. You 
know that."

"Right, which is my point." Buffy laid a hand on his arm. "The thing is, Dawn 
doesn't have her driver's license yet. Mostly because me teaching someone how 
to drive is a really bad idea." At the look on Spike's face, she added, "Well, 
that and the one time we tried I ended up yelling because I thought she was 
going to kill both of us, and then she freaked and went through the red light 
anyway. The point is, you've always been really good with Dawn, and I thought 
you could teach her. How to drive, I mean."

"You sure this isn't just a way to pass the buck on to me, pet?" He smirked at 
her knowingly.

Buffy shook her head emphatically. "Xander already tried to teach her. It's 
just his schedule and Dawn's never seemed to match, and I think he was a little 
afraid that she was going to kill him too."

"So what you're saying is that you couldn't think of a better way to get rid of 
me, so you're going to let your little sis do the job," he asked with a quirk 
of his scarred eyebrow.

"No!" She glared at him and then rolled her eyes. "You know that's not what I 
mean. You just have a lot of patience with her; you always have. I figured 
you'd probably manage to stay calm better than anyone else."

He smiled and laughed. "Sure, pet. Maybe when I was a vampire and didn't need 
to worry so much about bodily harm. But to answer your question, yeah, I'll 
teach the Bit how to drive. You want, we could swing by my old place. Left the 
car around there. With any luck it'll still run, and I won't have to worry 
about her doin' damage to your Jeep."

"Thanks, Spike," Buffy said softly. "Dawn really will be thrilled."

"Long as she's happy," he replied, twining his fingers in with hers.

"How's the job going?" she asked.

He shrugged slightly. "You know, lots of dusty old books and ancient languages 
no one speaks anymore and research that probably has no meaning whatsoever."

She grinned at him. "In other words, you're loving it."

Spike glanced over at her and gave a reluctant smile. "Well, yeah. We'll see 
how the teaching of the freshman gits goes, but the research bit is kind of a 
hand in glove, believe it or not." It was more than that, though. He'd 
forgotten more Greek and Latin than most of the grad students in the Classics 
department had ever known, due to the fact that a classical education in the 
late 19th century seemed to be more thorough than a Ph.D. candidate's knowledge 
in the Classics department. And he liked Liz as much as his first impression 
suggested he would. She had a wonderful sense of humor that jumped out at him 
at the oddest times, and she was extremely patient.

He was also beginning to tell her things about his life, what he'd been in the 
past. What it had been like to be a vampire who'd almost reached the century 
and a half mark. What he'd been through to get his soul and his humanity, what 
it had taken to get back to Sunnydale. It was just bits and pieces at this 
point, little things he'd let drop, but she said nothing, just listened, and he 
knew that eventually she would hear the whole story, possibly before Buffy did. 
Whatever he would say, Liz would just look at him with those wise eyes of hers. 
She reminded him of one of his grandmothers, his father's mother, who would do 
the same. Just sit there and listen and believe that he could walk on water if 
he wanted, even though she knew he couldn't. It had been a long time since 
anyone had looked at him like that. And while he saw flashes of it in Buffy's 
eyes, he knew she still didn't completely trust him. There were moments in time 
when she still looked at him as though he'd just crawled
 from under a rock, or when she'd pull away from him, a stony silence blocking 
his questions. She needed time, and he would give it to her, but it still 
stabbed him every time, and it always would. He loved her too damn much to be 
impervious.

The sight of the blackened crypt sent a ripple of emotion through him. He'd 
been mostly out of it when he'd come here, and hadn't seen it since. It had 
been home to him for almost three years, longer than he'd stayed anywhere as a 
vampire. Even now, it still seemed more like home than the Summers' house. 
"It's strange to see it like this," he commented softly.

"Yeah, home sweet crypt. Sorry that I let it get like this." Buffy touched his 
arm gently and he shook his head.

"It's fine. Wouldn't have come back here to live anyway. Maybe it's easier." He 
looked around, reorienting himself. "This way. Car should be over here 
somewhere."

The Desoto was right where he left it. Spike marveled at the irony of it. 
Sunnydale was a town where the murder and disappearance rate rivaled that of a 
much larger urban center, but no one had to worry about their car being stolen. 
Of course, then again, from Buffy's general reaction to his car, he wasn't so 
sure anyone would have wanted it. "Do you have the keys?" Buffy asked.

Spike shook his head and opened the door, digging around underneath the front 
seat. "Left 'em in here. Wasn't too sure I'd be back, and I really wasn't sure 
I'd be able to hang on to these where I was going."

Amazingly enough, the car started up immediately. "You want a ride home?" Spike 
asked with a smirk.

"In that thing?" Buffy asked incredulously. "I don't think so."

"Suit yourself, pet," he replied, closing the driver's side door, and putting 
it in drive.

"Wait," Buffy called. "Fine. But I can't believe you're actually going to teach 
Dawn to drive in this thing."

"Your idea, Slayer," he reminded her. "If I'm teachin' the Bit to drive, she's 
going to learn in a real car."

"Whatever."

~~~~~

Cleaning the car was a chore that Spike enjoyed. It felt good to be outside, 
under the sun, working with his hands. He was a tactile man, someone who 
enjoyed the feel of things, with a  natural curiosity that led him to want to 
know how things worked. Finding the right combination of chemicals that 
stripped the paint off the windows, replacing parts, working on fine-tuning the 
engine, felt good. Dawn, of course, was naturally inquisitive. She wanted to 
know exactly why Spike was working on the car now, in their driveway, and when 
she asked if it had anything to do with her coming birthday, he simply smiled 
at her.

Dawn lounged on the warm concrete, long, shorts-clad legs stretched out in 
front of her, watching as Spike worked under the hood. The bikini top she'd 
convinced Buffy to let her get allowed her tanned arms and shoulders access to 
the sun, and she was taking advantage of every moment. The end of the summer 
loomed, and soon there would be no more time for sun-bathing.

She and Spike had taken to spending more time with one another since Spike's 
job didn't keep him from home nearly as much as Buffy's did, and Giles was 
spending most of his time with Anya at the Magic Box. Theirs was an easy 
friendship, and it seemed to be exactly what they needed at the moment. "So, 
are you and Buffy okay?" Dawn asked.

"Why d'you ask, Bit?" he asked and waved his hand at a wrench that lay on the 
driveway. "Hand me that, why don't you?"

She passed the tool over and watched him for a few moments before replying. "I 
guess you guys just don't seem as close as when you first got back, you know? I 
mean, Buffy would hardly leave your side."

Spike looked back at her, his blue eyes troubled. "Don't need her as much, I 
guess," he replied. "We're both two independent people, Bit, and sometimes 
that's the way it works."

"Even when you're in love?" Dawn asked. "I thought when you were in love all 
you wanted was to be with them."

He dove back underneath the hood, unwilling for her to see the look on his 
face. "When we decided to try this again, it was with the understanding that it 
was like a test run, see if we liked each other enough to take it on forward. 
Didn't mean we're in love."

Dawn raised an eyebrow with a superior expression only an almost-seventeen year 
old can master. "Don't try to tell me you're not in love with her."

"That's not what I said," he replied calmly.

"So you are in love with her?" she asked.

"Always." The silence stretched between them as Spike finished up his 
ministrations and slammed the hood down. He'd long since removed his shirt, and 
his chest and back were streaked with grease and oil. Even though Dawn had 
convinced him to put on some kind of sunblock, his pale skin was still slightly 
pink. "Let's see how she runs." The engine started smoothly when he turned the 
key and he grinned sincerely. "What do you think?"

Dawn looked at the car dubiously, not sure whether it was sort of retro-cool or 
a piece of junk. "Well, I guess it's looking a lot better than it did."

He raised an eyebrow, lips twisting in a half-grin. "And tell us what you 
really feel, Niblet. Probably runs a hell of a lot better than your sis's car." 
He picked up a rag and wiped off his hands, sitting down next to Dawn in the 
driveway.

"Is it always this way?" Dawn asked.

"Is what always what way?" he replied.

She hesitated. "Is love always this confusing and hard?"

Spike lay back on the concrete, letting the warmth soak into him like a big 
cat. "Nothing worth doing's ever easy, Sweet Bit. But sometimes I suppose it's 
a little less confusing."

"I hope my love life's not as screwed up as Buffy's," Dawn finally commented, 
adding, "No offense."

"None taken," he replied amiably. "For your sake, I hope it's all roses and no 
thorns, luv, but that's rare indeed."

"Well, I figure all I have to do is figure out what Buffy did wrong and not do 
it."

Spike grinned, marvelling at the simplicity of her reasoning. "Good luck on 
that. Let me know how it turns out for you."

Dawn gave him a fake scowl and a punch on the arm, which only made his grin 
wider, and lay next to him, letting the late-afternoon sun soothe their 
troubles.

~~~~~

Spike and Dawn took Giles to the airport the following day, since Buffy had to 
work. There were cordial good-byes said all around, and then Dawn went off to 
spend some time with Janice since they were supposed to all go out that evening 
for her birthday. Spike decided to look Clem up and spend the afternoon 
catching up with the gentle demon.

Not much changed in the next couple weeks. The beginning of the school year 
drew ever nearer, and Spike was spending a lot of time getting ready for the 
classes he would be taking as well as the course he'd be teaching. He felt 
fairly secure in his ability to do well, but still felt the need to prove 
himself. Dawn was enjoying her birthday present. Her driving skills were coming 
along rather nicely, and he filled what free time he had with teaching her, 
especially since he wasn't spending nearly enough time with Buffy.

Buffy kept avoiding him. She'd switched her hours for two weeks in a row so she 
was working evenings instead of days, and she'd come home, change and be out 
the door patrolling before he could even ask her if she wanted company. When he 
tried to talk to her, she went on about inconsequential things, and she avoided 
spending more than an hour in his company. It wasn't helping their 
relationship. Spike was patient however. He figured she'd come around 
eventually, and he was ready to wait her out.

About two weeks after Giles had left, he came home from the university around 7 
or so, having spent most of the day with Liz doing research on a ritual 
unfamiliar to the both of them. Neither Dawn nor Buffy were home when he got 
there, which didn't surprise him too much. The Bit had left a note telling him 
that she was going out with some of her friends and not to expect her until 
curfew, which was 11. Buffy was still at work, and she'd left a message on the 
machine telling him that she was going straight out to patrol after work and 
not to expect her until late.

Spike sighed and grabbed the makings for a sandwhich out of the fridge, 
deciding that it would be easier and less expensive than ordering out. Gone 
were the days where you could order a pizza and eat the delivery boy, and 
thereby avoid paying for the meal. There were times when he really did miss 
being evil.

He worked on some translations while he ate his sandwhich. When the clock 
struck 11 and neither of his girls were home, he started to get a little 
worried. When midnight came and went and he still hadn't heard from them, he 
got really concerned. The knock on the door came at about quarter after 
midnight.

Dawn was on the porch being supported by Janice and a boy Spike vaguely 
remembered seeing at the Bronze. "What the bloody hell happened?" he growled, 
quickly taking Dawn's weight from them. She was clearly out of it, not quite 
unconscious, but not really aware of what was going on either.

Janice eyed him nervously. "I don't know. She started acting kind of funny all 
of a sudden. Mike thought maybe somebody slipped her something."

Spike looked over at Mike, the glint in his eyes making the younger man take a 
step back. "What makes you think that?"

"I don't know," he said shrugging. "She just came over funny all of a sudden. I 
just thought, maybe..." he trailed off, seeing the look on Spike's face. "We 
should go. My parents are gonna be worried."

"You do that," Spike replied. He got Dawn inside and locked the door before he 
picked her up in a fireman's carry. She wasn't too heavy for him, but she was 
almost as tall as he was, and it made things easier. He lay her down on the bed 
and pulled off her shoes, covering her with a blanket.

He went downstairs to wait for Buffy to come home. Spike didn't have to wait 
too long. Buffy walked through the door about twenty minutes after he'd put 
Dawn to bed. She saw him as she came through the door, and her surprise showed 
on her face. "Spike? I thought you would have already been in bed."

"Yeah, you'd have thought." He hesitated, and then replied. "I was waiting for 
Dawn to come home."

"Dawn's not home yet? Her curfew is 11."

Spike shook his head. "No, she got back about twenty minutes ago, but it looks 
like somebody slipped her something in her drink and she was pretty much out of 
it."

Buffy started up the stairs immediately. "Is she okay?"

Spike followed her. "She's fine. I checked her pulse and it's steady, and her 
breathing is still strong. She'll be alright just as soon as she sleeps it 
off." He watched as Buffy went into her sister's room and did exactly what he'd 
just told her he'd done.

She heaved a sigh of relief. "I think she's going to be fine." Buffy paused. 
"Wait a minute. She still came home an hour after curfew."

"I'm fully aware of that, pet," he replied. "However, Dawn happens to be 
unconscious right now. That might be something you want to talk with her about 
in the morning."

Buffy put a hand up to her head. "You're right. Fine. I guess we'll talk in the 
morning." She left the room and he followed her out.

"Buffy, I think we need to talk, though." He laid a gentle hand on her arm. He 
was seriously tired of being shut out, and he wanted something to change. 
Something had to break before he did.

She looked over at him in surprise. "Sure, Spike. But can it wait? It's pretty 
late."

He hesitated. It was late, but he was fairly certain that she was going to keep 
putting this off. "Yeah, pet. Sorry, wasn't thinking. You're right, tomorrow 
maybe."

"Okay, sure. I'll see you in the morning." He watched as she disappeared into 
her room and sighed. Well, that went well.

Spike decided to wait for a better moment to tell her they needed to talk. The 
morning was tense, with Buffy declaring Dawn grounded for the next two weeks. 
Dawn, of course, protested, saying it was utterly ridiculous that she would 
even have a curfew, especially when it wasn't a school night. Buffy replied 
that that was just too bad, but she'd had one and blown it and now she'd just 
have to deal with the consequences. It was about at that moment that they both 
looked at Spike to referee and he left the room.

Then he waited until after Buffy and he both got home from work, but she didn't 
seem like she was in that great of a mood. So he decided to wait until after 
they got done patrolling, when Buffy's outlook had been improved by a little 
violence. After staking a few vampires and killing a Fyarl demon, she seemed to 
be a bit happier, so he broached the subject again as they walked home. "Buffy, 
I really think we need to talk."

"Spike, I'm not in the mood for more drama tonight," she replied. "I've had 
more than enough from Dawn today."

He hesitated, not sure that he should say anything, but not wanting to wait any 
longer. "I understand that, but we do need to talk. You've barely said two 
sentences to me since Giles left. I figure if we were still shaggin' we'd be 
back to the whole do it one night, avoid me the next. Except that since we're 
not doin' it, you're avoidin' me every night."

His tone was possibly more harsh than he'd intended, but it got her attention. 
"Look, Spike. I know we haven't been seeing a lot of each other recently, but 
we've both been busy."
"You've been avoidin' me," he disagreed.

"Fine, whatever." She gave him an exasperated look. "I really don't want to 
talk about this now."

"Then when?" he demanded.

"How about never?" she suggested. "I just need some space, Spike."

He bit his tongue. He'd told himself that he was going to let Buffy call the 
shots, and that meant the ones he didn't like, as well as the ones he did. 
"Right. Space. I understand, Slayer. Sorry 'bout that."

Buffy looked as though she were about to say something and then changed her 
mind as they approached the house. They entered in silence and he followed her 
up the stairs. She hesitated outside her bedroom door. "Good night," she said 
quietly.

"Yeah, 'night, Slayer," he murmured as she closed the door.

~~~~~

"Hey, Buf," Xander said as he came in the kitchen.

She looked over at him, smiling. "Hey, Xander. What's up?"

Her friend looked in her eyes, concern evident on his face and in his voice. 
"Is there something going on, Buffy?"

She frowned, a confused look coming over her face. "No, I don't think so. Why?"

Xander hesitated, his brown eyes regarding her compassionately. "Spike called 
me the other night and asked if he could stay on my couch until he found his 
own place. I just wanted to make sure nothing had happened between you two." At 
the look Buffy gave him, he leaned back slightly. "I take it this isn't 
something the two of you had discussed."

"What do you mean he asked you if he could stay on your couch? He's moving 
out?" Buffy stared at him, not quite comprehending.

"That was the impression I got," Xander waited for her to say something, but 
she was looking as though someone had just hit her over the head.

"I'm going to kick his ass," she declared. "I can't believe he didn't tell me."

"Buffy," Xander said, putting a cautioning hand on her arm. "As much in favor 
as I might be of kicking Spike's ass, the fact remains that this is probably 
something that can't be worked out by beating on him. I may be wrong, but he 
obviously feels that something isn't right." When she didn't reply, he 
continued. "I'm not the biggest fan of Spike, but you were right the other 
night about him changing, and I don't think he wants to hurt you, so he's got 
to have his reasons."

"Maybe," Buffy acknowledged, remembering what he'd said a couple nights 
previous. "But he didn't tell me he was leaving, Xander. Just like every other 
man I seem to end up with."

"Even so, Buffy, he's the first guy that you threatened to pick over us, your 
friends." Xander looked at her with a small smile. "That says a lot about how 
you feel, whether you realize it or not. You might want to think about that." 
He gave her a sideways hug. "I've gotta run. I just thought you should know 
about the situation."

"Thanks, Xander," she murmured, watching him leave. The question was, now that 
she knew about it, what was she going to do?

~~~~~

Spike came home to find Buffy waiting for him, much as he had waited for her 
the other night. "Hey," she greeted him.

"Hi." He hesitated, and then headed for the stairs.

"Spike, wait. Can we talk?"

He paused and turned. "I thought you said you didn't want to talk, luv."

Buffy looked away. "Xander came by today. He said you were moving out."

"Well, you said you needed your space, so I thought I'd give it to you." He had 
that familiar smirk on his face, the one she'd since realized was designed to 
hide his pain by making her think of her own.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," she replied. "I didn't want you to 
leave."

"Sorry, but that's not what I heard. So I'll just be packin' up my stuff and 
movin' on, if you don't mind, because you very obviously don't need me around." 
He turned and began to climb the stairs.

"Don't walk away from me," she called out after him. He didn't even turn 
around. "William—"

It was possibly the only thing she could have said to make him stop, and when 
he turned he could see the tears in her eyes. Immediately, he understood. Her 
demand that he not walk away wasn't in reference to their argument, it was 
about their relationship. She didn't want him to walk away from her. "Buffy, I 
can't do this again. I'm sorry, I bloody well wish I were strong enough to give 
you what you seem to want, but I can't be this close to you and have you 
ignoring me. It hurts too much."

"Please don't leave," she whispered. "I know this has been rough, but please 
don't leave."

He shook his head. "I don't think I can stay."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Spike froze. Had she ever apologized to him before? Possibly right after she'd 
told him it was over; that little scene was pretty much a blur after she'd made 
her announcement. Now she was telling him she was sorry for an entirely 
different reason, and those two little words almost made him believe that they 
might be able to make this work. "Why'd you shut me out like that then?"

She wouldn't quite meet his eyes. "It's just, Giles left again, you know? And I 
knew he was only here for a visit, and he was going to leave, but it was nice 
to have him back."

A light went on inside Spike's brain. Normally, he was incredibly perceptive 
where Buffy and her friends were concerned, but his feelings were all wrapped 
up in this and he'd lost perspective. She was worried about losing someone all 
over again, and why not? Everybody else had walked out on her at least once, 
including himself. It was no wonder she'd shut down. And he, the bloody wanker, 
was going to add yet another stroke to the tally. "I'm not goin' anywhere, 
Buffy."

"Yeah, and you were just playing around, telling Xander you were getting your 
own place." She glared at him, angry now.

He cocked his head. "You said you wanted space. I was giving it to you. I'm not 
planning on leaving Sunnydale, luv. You'd have been able to find me."

"I don't want you to go," she replied.

He stared at her. "Buffy, do you really think I could?" he asked. "I'd never 
have come back to good ol' Sunnyhell if I thought I even had a prayer of 
getting you out from under my skin. You're stuck with me, pet."

"I didn't want to hurt you," she whispered. "I was so angry, I just wanted to 
hurt someone, and I knew it would be you, so I didn't say anything."

He moved closer so he could look into her eyes. "Next time, luv, do me a favor 
and say so. 'Spike, I'm feeling a bit pissed right now, so unless you want to 
be my punching bag, go away.' That wouldn't be so hard, would it?"

She smiled. "Spike, I'm a bit pissed right now, so unless you want to be my 
punching bag, go away." She paused and lifted an eyebrow. "It didn't work."

"Was it supposed to?" he asked, smirking.

"I don't know," she replied. "You don't seem to be moving." She looked up into 
those blue eyes of his that she could just get lost in. "I can't lose you. But 
sometimes I don't know what this takes, you know? I seem to really suck at 
relationships."

"I'm no different than your friends, Buffy," he reminded her. "It takes the 
same kind of effort with me that it does with them, and you seem to have done 
fine on that front."

"You make it sound so easy," she replied. She laid her head against his chest. 
"Why do you stick around, Spike? Anybody else would've bailed by now."

"I'm not the leaving kind, luv." He lay a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Come 
on, then."

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Out," he replied firmly. "I got paid last week, in case you didn't remember. 
We'll paint the town, pet."

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