Subject: [SpikesSalvation] Normal's A Place in Illinois- Chapter 9
Date: Sun, 23 Nov 2003 09:02:55 -0800 (PST)
From: Jerusha Hancock <enigmaticblue@yahoo.com>
Reply-To: SpikesSalvation@yahoogroups.com
To: SpikesSalvation@yahoogroups.com


Chapter 9: Wild Nights

"Wild nights! Wild nights!/
Were I with thee,/
Wild nights should be/
Our luxury!/
Futile the winds/
To a heart in port,--/
Done with the compass,/
Done with the chart./
Rowing in Eden!/ 
Ah! the sea!/
Might I but moor/
To-night in thee!" ~Emily Dickenson


Buffy was reading the assignment for her next class when Spike came in the 
door, dropping his bag unceremoniously. "Hey, you're home kinda late tonight," 
she commented.

He glanced at her apologetically. "Sorry 'bout that, luv. Liz and I got caught 
up in research, and then there were papers to grade." He stood there, rubbing 
his eyes, and Buffy swung her legs off the couch to make room for him.

"Come here," she said imperiously, and while he gave her an amused look, 
telling her he knew she was bossing him around and he was letting her, he sat. 
Buffy scooted him around until he lay with his head in her lap, and he closed 
his eyes in ecstasy as she started to rub his head. "You know, you probably 
wouldn't get headaches nearly as much if you got glasses. You're straining your 
eyes."

"Don't need glasses," he muttered. "My eyes just get tired sometimes."

"Besides," she went on as though she hadn't heard him. "I think you'd look cute 
in glasses."

His eyes opened to look in her face, testing to see whether she was teasing him 
or not. "Really?" Then his eyes narrowed. "Though I still don't need glasses."

Buffy giggled, fully aware that it would only take one or two more suggestions 
on her part before he got the glasses and saved his eyes. "I've been meaning to 
tell you that I like the haircut," she murmured, running her fingers through 
loose curls. It was more the length it had always been, though he wasn't using 
as much gel anymore. And it wasn't bleached. "Are you thinking about bleaching 
it again?" she asked.

He closed his eyes, giving himself over to her ministrations. "Dunno. Maybe."

"It's not a bad look on you," Buffy allowed, letting him know that she didn't 
care. "Maybe you could just get the tips done." He grunted, not wanting to say 
anything, just enjoying the feel of her hands on him.

He lay there in her lap, and Buffy couldn't help but think about how it would 
feel to kiss him. How it would feel to let him touch her. Their relationship 
had gotten steadily more physical over the past few weeks, nothing too much, 
but it had been nice. In a way, with Spike, Buffy was getting to go through all 
the steps she'd skipped before. His insistance that they take it slow had 
forced both of them to talk, and if he thought there was an issue they weren't 
addressing, he was the first to bring it up. But now Buffy thought they were 
actually getting close to moving to that next step, and his lips were way too 
inviting to pass up, and so she kissed him.

As tired as Spike was, he wasn't so tired that he couldn't respond to her. In 
moments, they'd shifted so that she lay on top of him, and their embrace grew 
more heated. Spike's shirt was completely undone, and her shirt was halfway off 
when she stopped him. "Spike, wait."

"Buffy—"

"Spike, stop." He literally froze, the look on his face a mixture of 
disappointment and fear and terrifying guilt.

"Buffy, I didn't—"

She took his face in her hands. "I only meant that we should probably go 
upstairs just in case Dawn decides to walk in."

"Oh," he seemed to relax, and cocked one eyebrow. "When you put it that way, 
luv."

"Besides," she said, a little smirk crossing her lips. "We should probably do 
it right this time around." When he looked puzzled, her smile widened. "We've 
never really tried it in a bed before."

Buffy lay next to him, watching as he slept. The rising and falling of his 
chest never ceased to amaze her. She could stay here forever, forget about the 
rest of the world, everything that came before, everything that might come 
after. Let it be just them. Spike started twitching slightly, and Buffy reached 
out one hand to calm him, but he shot upright before she could do anything.

He sat there, his breath coming in great heaves, and she noticed that he'd 
broken out in a cold sweat. She reached out to him, cupping one cheek with her 
hand. "Spike, it was just a dream. You're safe."

He looked over at her slowly, not quite believing what she said, the dream 
lingering behind deep-set eyes. "Buffy."

"That's me," she replied quietly. "Was that the one about me being dead again?"

He shook his head and swallowed hard. "No. Same dream I've been havin' for 
months now." He slumped back on the bed.


"You want to tell me about it?" she asked.

"No," he replied hoarsely. "You shouldn't have to deal with my trash, luv."

"Hey, this is me, remember?" she said. "You know, the girl who came back from 
the dead? If I remember correctly, you sat and listened to me when I needed it. 
And then again, you sat and talked to me when I needed that too. So here's me. 
Listen-y Buffy."

He smiled at that and reached up to brush a lock of hair out of her face. 
"You're so beautiful," he whispered.

"Sweet talk will get you nowhere, mister," she replied. "So spill." A pained 
look crossed his face, and she rubbed his cheekbone with her thumb. "Spike, you 
don't have to tell me, but I wish you would. Don't try and shut me out for my 
own good. You'll only end up pissing me off."

"Wouldn't want that," he said with a smirk. "It's about Dru," he finally 
admitted. Buffy said nothing, so he continued. "It's when she turned me, except 
that it's now too, and I don't want it, but I can't stop it."

Buffy caressed his face. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked.

"Don't think so, luv," he replied, giving her a sad smile. "Just a part of the 
baggage, I guess. Though to be fair, you should probably know I haven't been 
sleeping much. There's no sense in both of us losing sleep."

"If you try going anywhere I'm going to kick your ass, Spike," she said, though 
the twinkle in her eye told him she wasn't actually serious. "Go back to 
sleep," she whispered. "No one can hurt you here."

"I thought I was the one s'posed to be protecting you," he replied, though he 
didn't sound exactly displeased.

She smiled. "I'm the Slayer, remember? I'm the one doing the protecting. Go to 
sleep," she said again. "I'll be right here."

"You won't leave?" he asked.

"No," she replied. "I think you might be stuck with me." And she realized that 
what she felt for him, this feeling welling up inside her, was close enough to 
love as to make no difference at all.

~~~~~

"Uh oh," Buffy murmured. "Dawn just spotted us, and she doesn't look pleased."

Spike shrugged. "If you act like you don't see her she'll cool off." He smiled 
at her. "Relax, pet. We're here to do some hunting, right?"

She smiled back. "That was the plan." Buffy eased back into the silence, happy 
for it. Not that it wasn't good talking to Spike, but it was also nice just to 
sit with him, her senses alive. She remembered when she'd first come back from 
the dead, before they'd slept with (well, to be honest, screwed) one another. 
He had come to her then, or she'd gone to him, and they'd just sat, and it was 
nice. He was the only one she'd ever been able to do that with.

"By the bar, luv," he said quietly, and she looked over. She could tell he was 
a vampire immediately, and she glanced back at Spike. "He put something in her 
drink," he explained.

Spike had always been observant when it suited him, and Buffy could see the 
girl sway slightly. The vampire in question put a solicitous hand on her arm 
and began to lead her out the back way. "I'll take care of him," she said, and 
he nodded.

She got up, weaving her way through the crowd. This was the easy part, the part 
where everything narrowed to life and death and moments in time. She pulled a 
stake from where she'd tucked it, cleverly hidden in her waistband. The vampire 
was in the alley, looking to make a quick snack out of the girl. Buffy didn't 
even feel the need to make one of her characteristic quips. One swift move and 
there was dust everywhere, and the girl slumped to the ground. Before Buffy 
could even move towards her, Spike was right there, picking her up. "Better 
check her purse, Slayer," he said. "We should drive her home."

Buffy did as he said. It was so interesting, watching him. There were times 
when he just stepped back and let her take the lead, and yet there were other 
times when he showed a remarkable amount of initiative. In this case, they 
drove her home and got her to the door of her house unscathed. Her parents were 
understandably worried when they told them what had happened, but Spike and 
Buffy both assured them everything would be fine. They gave the G-rated 
version; they'd seen her come over woozy at the Bronze and had offered to give 
her a ride home, which she'd then accepted. Whatever the guy had been using, 
and had perhaps used on Dawn, left fuddled memories around the time of the 
stuff getting into the system. Buffy shuddered to think of what might have 
happened if Dawn were truly on her own that night.

They went back to the car and Buffy let him take the keys. "Where to, luv?" he 
asked, climbing behind the wheel. "Back to the Bronze?"

"So Dawn can hate us forever?" Buffy asked. She reached over and took one of 
his hands in hers. "Besides, I had something better in mind."

Spike looked over at the clock beside the bed. "The bit'll be home anytime now, 
you know."

Buffy checked the time and groaned. "Darn it. We should probably at least 
pretend to have been waiting impatiently."

"Speak for yourself, luv. The only reason I'm not asleep is because I've been 
worryin' myself sick over your sis." He held up one arm to protect himself and 
laughed as she tried to hit him.

"You are such a pig!" she exclaimed, grabbing a pillow.

"Now, now," he replied, grabbing his own pillow. "Remember, we agreed to no 
name calling."

Buffy just giggled after swatting him a good one across the shoulder, and he 
growled, tossing his pillow aside and diving directly for her. They tussled on 
the bed, both of them panting and grinning like idiots. In the end, of course, 
Buffy ended up on top, her hands holding his wrists above his head. "Say 
uncle," she said.

"Don't think so. I don't give up that easily," he replied, grinning.

"Really?" she asked, and then kissed him, long, hard, and deep. "Say uncle."

A sparkle of mischief lit up his eyes, and he replied, "Aunt."

Buffy pretended to consider and then kissed him again. "That'll do." They were 
rapidly losing all awareness of everything except for one another until they 
heard Dawn calling up the stairs.

"Hey, Buffy? Spike? I'm home!" They both groaned then, and Spike crawled out of 
bed. "I'll go downstairs, check to make sure everything went well," he said. "I 
think I might look a little less mussed than you do, pet."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Right, Spike, like Dawn doesn't know what's going on at 
all around here. Doesn't take much to figure it out." She smiled. "She'll 
probably want to tell us all about it anyway. Give me a few minutes, and I'll 
be down."

Spike paused in the doorway and looked over at her. "Have I ever told you how 
much I love you, Buffy?"

She met his eyes, finally able to accept his words at face value, understanding 
the reality and the depth of it all. "Only about once a week." She wanted to 
say it, but she couldn't, and he seemed to understand, because all he did was 
smile and leave the room, pulling a shirt over his head as he went.

"I think I might love you," she whispered to the air when he'd gone. One of 
these days she'd actually say it to his face.

~~~~~

"Well, you look like you took the brunt of it," Liz commented wryly as Spike 
walked into her office.

He raised a scarred eyebrow and fingered the bruise that formed along his 
jawline. "Yeah, ran into a door, if you can believe that."

Liz gave him a look of patent disbelief. "Actually, no I can't. I take it 
you're helping Buffy in her quest to save the world."

Spike gave her a hard look. "I look after my girls, Liz. Whatever it takes."

Her face immediately softened. "I know you do, William," she replied. "But I 
must confess that I have selfishly gotten used to having a reliable graduate 
assistant, and don't really want to lose him."

"You won't lose him," Spike replied, amused. "I've been fighting for longer 
than you've been alive. And I haven't died yet." He shot her a cheeky grin. 
"Well, except for that first time, and I wasn't fighting."

"Do you regret it?" Liz asked. "Becoming a vampire, I mean. If you had it to do 
over, would you change it?"

"Funny," he replied. "Dawn asked me if I regretted turning human again not long 
after I got back, and I said I didn't." He considered, and then said slowly. 
"The proper answer would be yes, absolutely, if I could change it, I would. And 
yet, if I'd never met Drusilla, I'd never have met Buffy either. And I can't 
imagine my life without her. So I'd have to say no. I'd be selfish and leave it 
be, not change the past, no matter how much harm I've done."

"You've done good, as well, though," Liz pointed out.

"Perhaps," Spike looked up and smiled. "I'll never be able to undo or atone for 
what I've done, maybe, but I can try to be a good man. That's not an 
opportunity I plan on passing up."

~~~~~

Buffy wandered down the narrow hallway. She'd already checked the small closet 
Spike called an office, and was going to check to see if he was with Liz. One 
of her afternoon classes had been cancelled, and she thought she might surprise 
him. It would be nice just to be able to eat lunch together; they hadn't been 
able to do much of that since school started. Spike was usually in class or 
working on research, and Buffy's class load was fairly light. She wasn't even 
on campus that much.

She heard his voice as she approached Dr. Kearns' office, and he sounded 
frustrated. "The only other example of that sort of ritual is in the Protocols 
of Osiris, and it's a good thing they've all been destroyed, if you ask me. 
They're too bloody dangerous."

"This particular ritual has no record of being done successfully," a female 
voice reminded him. "A case like this is absolutely incredible."

"That's the problem," Spike grumbled. "It might be incredible, but that's all 
these amateurs think about. They don't want to know anything about the 
consequences."

"Exactly," Liz replied, a note of triumph in her voice. "Which means if we can 
educate the amateurs on the consequences of their actions, we may have a chance 
to prevent something like this happening in the future."

Buffy wasn't sure what they were talking about, but something about their words 
sounded hauntingly familiar. Hesitating slightly, she knocked on the door. 
Hearing a cheery, "Come in," she opened it and entered.

"Buffy," Spike said with a smile, standing to greet her.

"Hey," she replied. "I thought I might find you here." She came up to him, 
letting him take her hand.

He grinned at her. "Buffy, this is my boss, Liz. Liz, this is Buffy."

"Ah, yes, the Slayer," Liz said, standing to shake her hand. "It's wonderful to 
finally meet you. William has told me so much."

Buffy smiled a little. "Some of it good, I hope."

Liz smiled wryly. "When he's not talking about how wonderful you are, he's 
usually humming."

Buffy's smile grew wider as she saw Spike's ears turn pink. "Humming? Really? 
How fascinating."

Spike gave his mentor a pained look. "Is nothing sacred?"

"Not when you get that lovely pink color in your cheeks, my boy," she replied. 
"You should probably take your lunch now, though. No use in letting such a 
lovely afternoon get away from you." She squeezed his shoulder fondly. "Don't 
take this the wrong way, William, but don't bother coming back today."

"Thanks, Liz," he replied gratefully. A full free afternoon to spend with Buffy 
was a rarity he was fully prepared to enjoy.

"Don't mention it," she replied. "I'd like to have you both for dinner some 
night. Would you two be interested? Perhaps on Thursday?"

Spike gave Buffy a look that told her he'd be willing but it was up to her. 
"We'd be happy to come," Buffy said, the standard response to any offer like 
that.

"Come about 7," she said. "William knows where I'm at."

"I thought you had class today, luv," Spike said as they left the building and 
wandered towards the student center to get something to eat.

"It was cancelled," Buffy explained. "Professor Lane was sick. I thought I'd 
come find you, and we could hang out."

He snaked an arm around her waist. "I always knew you were a bloody genius, 
Buffy." They got their sandwiches and went outside to eat. When they couldn't 
find a table right away, Spike suggested sitting on the grass, which Buffy 
quickly agreed to. Suddenly, a voice called out. "Hey, Will, come on over here."

Buffy looked over to see a table populated with several young men about Spike's 
age. Well, at least the age he appeared. Spike glanced over at Buffy to see if 
she minded, and when she shrugged, led her over. "You lot have room?" he asked 
casually.

"Always have room for the guy who brings a gorgeous girl along," a blonde, 
green-eyed man said grinning. "Hi, I'm Kief."

"Hands off my girl," Spike said, his tone teasing but serious. "Buffy, Kief's a 
grad assistant with the Classics Department as well. That's Johnson over 
there," he pointed to a dark-skinned man, who had an earring in each ear. "He's 
in the African studies department. And that loser's Deke." Deke was a thin, 
red-haired young man with freckles. Apparently, "loser" was a term of 
affection, because he merely waved and gave Buffy a shy hello.

They sat down at the table, and Buffy found herself at somewhat of a loss. In 
the past, the men she'd dated had, in many ways, been alone. Angel simply 
hadn't had any friends, and she'd barely gotten along with Riley's crew. But 
these guys seemed friendly enough, and they knew Spike fairly well. Well, in 
reality they knew Will, but they had no clue who Spike was. Buffy had to remind 
herself that here, in this world, "Will" was a grad student for a well-known 
scholar, and was thus accorded a great deal of respect by his peers. Not only 
that, but he seemed to know exactly what they were talking about, while Buffy 
was completely lost.

The conversation jumped from world politics to the value of the nature themes 
in Wordsworth, to the disintegration of American culture. Buffy hadn't even 
realized that American culture had anything wrong with it. She was feeling more 
and more out of place and out of step, even as Spike intelligently debated the 
value of mass media in popular culture. After about an hour of feeling like a 
complete idiot, Spike glanced over at her, and seeing that she was 
uncomfortable, reached under the table to grasp her hand. "Sorry mates," he 
said smoothly. "But I've been given the afternoon off with strict instructions 
to spend time with my girlfriend, so if you'll excuse us..."

Buffy said good-bye and allowed Spike to grab her hand as they walked away. 
"You okay, pet?" he asked.

"Sure, I'm fine," she replied.

He rolled his eyes expressively. "Buffy—" he began.

She huffed. "You know, I hate it when you do that."

"Yeah, every bird hates it when her boyfriend reads her mind," he smirked. "So 
spill."

She turned to look at him. "Spike, I didn't understand one thing that came out 
of their mouths. I didn't even know that Wordsworth had a watchamacallit. And I 
didn't know that American culture was in danger of becoming trite and 
meaningless. And you sat there, and you knew exactly what they were saying, and 
you had opinions on everything. How am I even supposed to talk to you?"

"Easy, Buffy," he replied, smiling. "You talk, I listen. Piece of cake."

"I'm not smart like that, Spike. I never will be." Buffy looked away. "For a 
while, I thought I could really do this college thing, and now that I'm back, I 
don't know that I can, and I'm wondering if I'm just wasting my time."

"Hey now," he said, taking hold of her arm. "Buffy, first of all, they've been 
havin' the same conversation at universities across the world since the 
beginning of time. The names change a bit, and maybe the faces, but otherwise 
it's all the same. I just happen to remember a bit from my university days. And 
secondly, don't you ever think you're not smart, luv. Seems to me I heard 
somewhere you scored high on your tests."

She shook her head. "That was a fluke."

"Right, luv. Never mind, you are a brainless cheerleader." He snorted in 
disgust. "Buffy, you've got other things on your mind. Those prats, while nice 
enough gents, don't think of anything more than what you just heard 'em talkin' 
about. Well, maybe their next glass of beer or what girl they're going to take 
out on a Friday night. In a year or two, they'll all move on, and nobody will 
remember them bein' here, and the world won't have changed a bit for them 
havin' that conversation, or any of the other ones they've had in the past. 
Buffy, you save the world on a bloody regular basis, and you're raisin' your 
lil' sis, and doin' a damn good job. Don't knock yourself for not bein' a 
worthless brainiac like those wankers. Wouldn't love you as much as I do if you 
were anythin' other than what you are."

Buffy smiled at his vehemence. She wasn't sure how he did it, but he always 
seemed able to put things in perspective for her. "You're not just saying that 
so I feel better?"

"Meant every word, luv," he replied, the look in his eyes coming close to 
adoration.

She suddenly smiled. "Let's go home, Spike. I think I feel the need to do some 
training."

~~~~~

Spike stood, trembling, in the kitchen. It used to be that he lived for the 
night, and now it terrified him. Or, at least the dreams it brought did. He was 
bone-weary; it had been at least a week since he'd had a dream-free night, and 
the loss of sleep was beginning to take its toll. Really, if it wasn't for the 
nightmares, his life would pretty much be nearing perfection at this point.

He and Buffy had had a great time with Liz. They had finally had an opportunity 
to talk about their research into resurrection spells, and Spike thought that 
Buffy had been relieved to go over her experiences. He didn't think she'd ever 
been able to talk about what had happened with a neutral audience, and it was 
far enough in the past at this point that some of the sting had been taken out. 
It had been healing for both of them, and it was a relief for Spike that she 
knew what it was he and Liz had been working on for the past couple months. And 
she and Liz had really liked each other, which was good.

Dawn was getting on much better in school. She seemed to be enjoying herself, 
and Simon was a good influence on her. What made him happiest about the 
relationship was the boy's nearly constant presence in their house, which made 
him very easy to keep an eye on. The only thing Spike worried about was Simon 
himself. His almost constant presence meant that something made it hard for him 
to go home, and Spike was beginning to like the guy.

Simon's problems, whatever they might be, were his own though. Spike would do 
what he could, but he knew from experience that there were some things you 
couldn't fix for someone, and their home life was usually one of those. Even 
so, he and Buffy had let Dawn know that Simon was welcome at any time, and they 
both seemed to be taking advantage of the offer. Both he and Buffy agreed that 
it was better that they be at the house than sneaking around. Not that they 
didn't trust the two of them, but they were teenagers.

Spike was interrupted from his musings by two slender arms wrapping themselves 
around his waist. "Hey."

He placed his hands over hers. "What are you doing up?" he asked. "No point in 
both of us losing sleep, Buffy."

"Have I ever told you how much I hate sleeping alone?" she replied.

He smiled. "Sorry, luv. Hated to leave you." He turned in her arms to look down 
at her. "Go back to sleep, Buffy. I'll be fine."

"You're exhausted," she replied. "Come with me."

He shook his head. "I can't. I can't dream again tonight."

Buffy realized then that he was shaking. "Spike, you can't keep doing this. You 
need to sleep. Why don't you let me talk to Willow? I'm sure she could come up 
with something to help."

"Buffy—" he was appalled to realize that his voice was unsteady and tears 
threatened. She saw it immediately, and pulled him with her to the couch in the 
living room.

"Shh," she whispered, pulling him into her arms, and just holding him. "It's 
going to be fine, Spike."

To his own disgust, he found tears running down his cheeks. "Buffy, I'm so 
tired."

"I know," she replied. "Just let it out."

"I didn't want you to see this." It had happened before, in the dark, as he sat 
alone, on his way back from Africa. He had hidden his weakness well, but now 
Buffy could see that his soul was still bruised.

"Do you think it matters to me?" she asked, softly. "I see what I've always 
seen. I see a good man trying to do his best. William," she said, gently 
forcing him to look at her. "Whatever you've done, it doesn't matter. You're a 
good man."

"But, Buffy, what I've done. I see it again—"

She laid her fingers on his lips. "It's done. That means it's in the past. I am 
so proud of you, of what you've managed to become. You're enough for me, just 
as you are." She leaned into his silence and kissed him, his lips salty with 
tears. How long had she loved him? she wondered to herself. Had she loved him 
before he'd gone? Before he'd helped her save the world? Had this feeling 
always been there, buried by grief and hurt? What she and Angel had was 
everything a first love was supposed to be. Romeo and Juliet a' la Braham 
Stoker. It had been doomed from the beginning. But this, this wasn't a five act 
tragedy, this was one of those I'll love you forever and a day kind of loves. 
Let's grow old and have a half dozen kids together things. She knew it and yet 
she still couldn't say it, as though the words would somehow break the spell 
that surrounded them.

He finally fell asleep there, lying against her on the couch, a frown still 
furrowing his forehead. Buffy ran her fingers through his hair, trying to 
smooth out the pain that lingered. She felt easier within herself, now that 
she'd admitted how she really felt about him. There was a peace that wasn't 
there before. Now, she just had to figure out how to say the words.

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