It's Not Where You Start Out (11/17)
by Kelly Frieders
raykel2@cox.net

Genre: Drama, B/S
Rating: PG-13, nothing you wouldn't see on the show
Disclaimer: Spike's not mine. Wish he were, but my husband might object. Buffy and all the rest aren't mine, either. I'm just borrowing them from Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy for a while.

Summary: Post "The Gift." Way post "The Gift," actually. Takes place sometime the following year. There's some new interest in the Key and an old enemy is back in town. Spoilers for everything up to and including "The Gift."

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11.

After the Ekories left with their charges, Spike did a hasty clean-up that mostly involved shoving broken items somewhere out of sight or throwing them away if they were too far gone. The window in Dawn's room was the biggest concern, but other than covering the hole with some plywood he'd found in a shed out back, there was nothing to be done about it tonight. Builder boy could come 'round tomorrow and make repairs. In the meantime, niblet would have to sleep in Buffy's room.  That thought made him wonder where *Buffy* was going to sleep tonight, but he resolutely pushed that notion from his mind. Any moves in that regard should come from her, not him. He'd spent the past year or so convincing himself there was no chance it would ever happen. Now that it looked possible, maybe even likely, he wasn't about to blow it by pushing her before she was ready. He had eternity. He could wait.

Of course, there *was* the fact that Buffy did *not* have eternity, as she'd reminded him earlier. This unsettled him. The four months when she was dead had been the longest four months of his entire century and a half of existence. The idea of having only sixty or so years--and that was only on the freakish chance that she somehow managed to beat the slayer longevity odds in a spectacularly unprecedented way--and then an eternity without her was almost unbearable. The easy solution, of course, would be to turn her. Had a slayer ever been turned before? It would certainly solve the whole mortality problem and even take down the bloodlust problem as well. As a vampire herself, she wouldn't give a damn if he fed again.

He shuddered and shook that thought away quickly. For all its simplicity it really was a sickening plan. Buffy as a vampire wouldn't preserve her, it would destroy her, destroy everything he loved about her. And it would doom her to the very existence he was working so hard to overcome. Absolutely no.

Being one of the good guys sure was a pain in the bloody arse.

When the house looked reasonably put together again, save for Dawn's window, he went back to the kitchen and rooted around in the fridge for some blood, which he knew Buffy kept for him. His plan was to stuff himself to the point where the very idea of feeding would make him ill, thus staving off the bloodlust that was still making him feel a little weak and shaky. He found a plastic bag in the back of the fridge, poured its contents into a mug from the cupboard, nuked it, then settled down on the couch in the living room to find something decent on the telly. Flipping through many channels of crap on cable, he finally settled on the classic movie channel, which was playing "His Girl Friday" in about ten minutes. Rosalind Russel was great in that movie. Just his sort of heroine: resourceful and a complete wise-ass. Buffy would love her.

His choice made, Spike settled back on the couch, feet on the coffee table, mug of blood on the end table beside him, a good flick on the
telly--

"Hey Sleeping Beauty."

Spike opened his eyes to find Buffy and Dawn standing over him. He frowned and sat up, pulling his legs down from the coffee table. "I
wasn't asleep," he muttered.

"Uh huh," Buffy said skeptically. "I see your idea of housecleaning is to shove stuff under the carpet."

"Yeah, you're welcome," he shot back, turning off the telly and rising to his feet. He was barely there when Dawn suddenly tackled him in a huge embrace.

"You're the best, Spike! Thank you so much!"

Spike stood there stunned a moment, looking over her shoulder at the bemused expression on Buffy's face. Awkwardly he patted Dawn's back. "Sure, pidge," he replied, not really sure what she was thanking him for.

She pulled back and Spike could see she was positively beaming. What was she on about anyway?

"Okay then," she said, smiling impishly. "I'm *really* tired, I think I'll go to bed now. Night!" She gave them a little wave then turned
and headed toward the stairs.

"Uh, you're not gonna want to sleep in your room," Spike called after her. "Window's broken."

She paused on the stairs. "Oh yeah, I forgot."

"Take my room," Buffy told her. Dawn smiled and started up again. "But don't touch anything!" Buffy finished. She turned to Spike when Dawn disappeared up the stairs. "She reminded me tonight that she's as old as I was when I became the Slayer." She flopped down wearily on the couch. "I never realized until now how young I was."

Spike snorted. "'Cause you're so old now."

She looked up at him. "I'm old. DER."

"Yeah, you're quite the ancient sage."

"Yeah, well I've died twice, you've only died once. So there."

"Point," Spike conceded. They fell silent and his eyes caught hers and lingered there a moment, drinking her in. Then suddenly self-conscious, he averted his gaze and stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do next. Should he leave now? Should he stay? Would she want him to stay? Of course, he didn't even know if he had anywhere else to go *to* yet since he wasn't sure he'd be welcomed back at the Magic Box. That pretty much made the decision for him so uneasily sat down next to Buffy on the sofa, but not too close. "So how did it go?"

She sat forward in her seat. "About as expected. Dawn obviously despises you," she said, jerking her thumb towards the now-empty
staircase.

"She's a good kid," Spike smiled despite himself.

"And she is, of course, really thrilled at the idea of... well, you know. Us," Buffy finished awkwardly.

Spike couldn't help but give her a wide, foolish grin. Us. "You told her that too?" This surprised him. He knew she was uncomfortable with what she felt, what it all meant, so he had expected her to keep that part quiet.

"Yeah, I told them all, actually. When I got to the part about me not killing you, Xander kinda cornered me. Apparently as usual the only person I've been fooling is myself," she said sheepishly.

"Oh I bet that *really* made monkey boy's day."

Buffy sighed.

"Uh-huh," Spike said. "So I'll be on the lookout for sharp wooden objects when he's around."

"He'll get used to it," Buffy said reassuringly. "And he's the only one who really had a problem. Tara was mostly silent and Willow just wants everyone to be happy. And Anya, you should've seen her! She gave a surprisingly good speech in your defense."

"Anya?" That was another surprise. They got along fine, but Anya wasn't much the type to stick her neck out for anyone that wasn't Anya
or Xander.

"Yeah, she was great. Pointed out that maybe people engaged to ex-demons shouldn't be so unforgiving."

"Hmm. Course, the operative word being *ex*-demon."

"Spike, you're not a demon," she said gently, reaching out to touch his face.

Abruptly, Spike grabbed her wrist, startling her. "Yes, I am," he said harshly. "Don't let's pretend I'm something I'm not. You'll only be disappointed." She looked alarmed by his sudden severity, but he held her wrist fast and stared at her, unrelenting.

"What, your Frankenstein analogy only works for Dawn? I thought the monster wasn't really a monster." she challenged, eyes blazing.

"No, as usual you weren't listening. The monster didn't start out a monster. He became one when he started killing. I've *always* been a monster, love, since the day I became a vampire."

She held his gaze a little longer, then lowered her eyes. "I know," she conceded. He released her arm. "I didn't mean it that way," she continued, looking back up at him. "I'm not trying to pretend you're something you're not. I just meant." She faltered, searching. "I meant you're not the same as you were."

"I'm not," he agreed more gently, "but I'm not human. I'll never be human. And I've done the 'play pretend' bit and it isn't all that. It isn't real -- *you* told me that. And you were right. Everything since then has been real and I wouldn't trade it for the world. I wouldn't  trade it for the *blood.* Whatever happens, it has to be real. I need you to *see* me."

"I do see you," she said intently.

//I do see you, that's the problem. You're nothing to me, William. You're beneath me.// His first love, Cecily's words burned his mind and he caught his breath a moment, suddenly terrified.

"What do you see?" he asked finally.

Buffy leaned closer. "A vampire. A particularly obnoxious one at that," she replied. "You're vain and arrogant and you pretty much think the world revolves around you."

"Look who's talking," he shot back, but with no real animosity.

"You're a romantic, but you try to pretend you're not. You bite and snark and strut like the world can't touch you but you get hurt easily because you love deeply and with everything you have. And that was true even when you were evil. You stick like glue to a fifteen year old girl because you made a promise, but really it isn't so much about the promise but the fact that you love her like she was your own little sister, and that just freaks you out. Even now you cling to the whole 'Big Bad' thing because you think being good makes you weak, and the thing you hate most about it is that you're terrified you're becoming Angel and you hate that because he's been ahead of you everywhere you've ever been. The only thing you had on him was that you've killed two slayers and so falling in love with one is pretty much the worst thing that could've ever happened to you, *especially* since Angel was there first, too. But in the end, none of that matters because you love me and 'love is blood screaming inside you' and you 'may be love's bitch, but at least you're man enough to admit it.'" She sat back, a smug grin on her face. "How'd I do?"

Spike just stared at her, enraptured. She'd even quoted something he'd said to her over three years before. "Wow," was all he could manage to choke out.

She basked in her victory a moment longer, then leaned toward him again, serious once more. "What I feel for you is weird for me, Spike. This whole thing is strange and scary and something I have been fighting since the first time I found out you were in love with me. Maybe before. It's messy and surreal and I have no idea where we go from here and I'm not sure I even want to go there. But it *is* real."

She held his gaze for a long time while he absorbed what she was saying, drunk her in. He wanted to kiss her, to devour her, but he couldn't move. It *was* surreal. She *did* see him and it was terrifying and exhilarating, to be seen and to be loved. So he stared into her eyes, unmoving, until she broke the spell by closing them and falling back to the couch again wearily. Spike felt a pang of regret at the loss of the moment.

"No more deep thoughts. My brain is on overload," she said, her voice sounding exhausted.

Spike took this as his cue. "Well, I should be off then, let you get some sleep," he said, rising to his feet and trying not to sound too disappointed.

She opened her eyes and peered up at him. "Where do you think you're going?" she said in a mock-scold voice. She patted the sofa beside her. "Sit down, veg with me. We'll watch something brainless on TV or  something."

Disappointment turned to elation, but then another thought occurred to him. "You don't have to babysit me, you know. I'm not going to go out for a midnight snack, if that's what you're worried about."

She scowled at him. "I don't want to babysit you. I just want to be with you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Smiling broadly, he sat down in the corner of the couch and stretched his arm across the back of the seat. To his delight, she slid next to him, resting comfortably in the crook of his arm, her head on his shoulder. He let his hand fall down to her shoulder and held her lightly, almost gingerly.

"So what's on TV?" she asked, settling in.

He shook his head as if just waking up from a dream, then grabbed the remote. "'His Girl Friday' is on the classic movie channel. Probably half over by now, but it's a good one."

"The classic movie channel? My mom used to love watching those old movies. I don't think I've seen that one, though."

"You'll like it."

"And I should trust *your* taste, oh He Who Watches 'Passions'?" Buffy taunted.

"Perfectly fine television fare," he sniffed. "But for movies you can't beat the old screwball comedies. You'll like it, trust me. The leading lady is a heartless bitch. You'll love her."

Buffy gave him a sideways look as he flipped the telly on. The movie was about half over, right at the scene when Rosalind Russel was giving her speech about how she was going to leave behind the newspaper business to be a "woman now," having babies and giving them cod liver oil. Spike gave Buffy a quick synopsis of the story thus far and they settled in to watch.

"So Hildy's in love with Walter but she's marrying some other guy?" Buffy asked as they watched.

"Mmm-hmmm."

"And we know she's really in love with Walter because what, they fight all the time?"

Spike grinned. "That's right, pet. Innit romantic?"

Buffy flashed him a broad smile. "Yeah, I guess it is."

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"Now who's the Sleeping Beauty?"

Buffy opened her eyes to find Spike's face hovering over hers. Disoriented, she sat up, trying to figure out where she was. On the couch in her living room, as it turns out, and then she remembered. She'd been watching a movie with Spike and must have dozed off.

"I'm sorry, did I miss the end of the movie?"

"Yes, love. About five hours ago."

"Five hours?" She bolted upright. "What time is it?"

"Getting close to sunrise. I need to be heading back."

Buffy felt a pang of regret as she sat up. "I'm sorry, I guess I was pretty tired after running all over town last night and beating up on monks and lackeys. I didn't mean to sleep the night away."

He smiled warmly and Buffy was struck with just how sexy he was when he smiled. "Why not? Isn't that when you normally sleep?"

"Well, yeah, but it's not like we'll get a lot of daylight hours to spend together," she said, cursing herself for falling asleep.

He positively beamed at this. She was in *so* much trouble. "Well, I'm not bloody Dracula, sleeping in dirt all day, now am I? And *you* can walk around in the sunshine. You're always coming 'round the Magic Box to train anyway." He frowned. "'Course, I don't know if I still live there."

"Oh! I forgot! Anya said she does still want you there. Something about it being handy to have you around and you being cute and muscley," she said slyly.

He snorted. "Bet her idiot fiancé is thrilled."

Buffy shrugged. "I told you, he'll come around." She sighed and looked out the window. "Definite pinkness in the sky. You'd better get going unless you want to be walking home with a blanket over your head." Man, did this bring back memories, dreading the dawn. //I can't believe I'm going there again,// she thought to herself.

"No blanket. I should go." He stood up and she rose along side him, walking him to the door.

"Next time wake me up earlier so we can do breakfast or-- what?" He had stopped short and was kind of staring at her, surprised.

"Next time," he repeated, a little dumbstruck. "It's just a bit of a mind bender, that. I keep waiting for you to realize what a huge mistake you're making."

She turned her eyes upwards as if she were considering this. "Nope, nothing yet. Still blissfully ignorant," she replied blithely, then stood on her toes and gave him a gentle kiss. He took her face in his hands and kissed her back, a little more deeply, and she thought for a moment that ignorance was, indeed, quite blissful.

"Sky's getting lighter," he said huskily, pulling away.

"Yeah," she replied sadly, her hands still on his chest. "I'll come by the shop later, 'kay?" Then she remembered the other less pleasant events of the evening. "You're going to help me find Ethan, right?" she asked, a note of warning in her voice. "And we need to figure out what to do about Brother Ondrih and company to get them off Dawn's back for  good. You gave him a good scare, but like you said, they'll be back. I'd rather not wait around for them."

"Right. We'll get 'em, Buffy. They're not nearly as bad as those sodding knights or that hell god bitch were."

"I know. I just wish Dawn didn't have to go through this *again.*"

"Yeah. Kid's been through enough," he agreed. "You'll figure it out. That's what you do," he said, his finger tracing her jawline. Buffy felt a thrill go through her and she closed her eyes. Damn the sun! Where was a total eclipse when you needed one?

"Keep that up and you'll be needing that blanket after all," she said with great reluctance.

Spike removed his hand. "Right then. I'll be off." He looked into her eyes a moment longer then opened the door. "I love you."

"I know."

He gave her another brilliant smile. "Brainless twit."

"Pig."

And then he left. Buffy watched until he disappeared in the pre-dawn gloom, then sagged against the doorframe. She was in *so* much trouble.

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The sky was brightening ominously as Spike walked quickly from Buffy's house to the Magic Box, but he didn't care. He smoked a cigarette as he walked, trying to think if he'd ever felt this good in his entire hundred and fifty odd years of existence. If he had, nothing was jumping out at him. Sure, he was battered from fighting and his shoulder hurt from where that monk blighter stabbed him, but he felt bloody fabulous. This may well have been the best night of his life.  The only thing that even came close was when Buffy regained her life after being gone for four months.

It was almost embarrassing, really, how good he felt. This wasn't a night Spike, the old Spike, William the Bloody, scourge of vampires, would have approved of. Hell, that Spike would have mocked him mercilessly for it. Turn down a perfectly good feed? Let the girl you love fall asleep in your arms and not even *try* to have sex with her? How pathetic. That was a night only a poncy pillock like, well, like William, the human William, would love. He laughed at this thought. William. He was acting like bloody sodding *William,* the human he'd spent a hundred and twenty years trying to eradicate, remold into something bigger and badder. And he **didn't care.**

//Next time,// she'd said. **Next time.** She'd said it so casually, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Of *course* there will be a next time. That's what happens when you're in love. **In love.** Not "tolerate." Not "put up with." Not "sorta like having you around." **In love.** It was unfathomable.

He'd really enjoyed watching the movie with her, too. Well, what little they saw of it since they'd missed the first half and she'd fallen asleep before it was over. Right there, her head on his shoulder, she'd fallen asleep. It almost made him giddy. Two hours before that she'd been ready to kill him, and then she fell asleep in his arms? Could there be anything more indicative of complete trust? He'd dozed a bit, too, but mostly he'd spent the night watching her sleep, amazed that something so simple and passive could be so exhilarating.

"You're a bleeding idiot," he told himself out loud, but he didn't care. She wanted there to be a next time.

He reached the Magic Box, and none too soon; the sky was very light and the sun would be showing itself over the horizon any minute now. He found his key and let himself in, then headed down to the basement toward his flat. He could catch a couple hours of sleep before Anya showed up to open the shop, and then maybe he could talk with her, make sure she was really okay with everything, and to thank her for trusting him enough to let him stay.

He stepped into his darkened basement room and immediately knew he wasn't alone. He paused in the doorway, tense and alert.

"Cutting it kinda close to sunrise, eh Spike? You have a good time?"

Bloody *wonderful.* Xander. He was sitting in Spike's easy chair in the dark, waiting. Not a good sign. But he made no move, so Spike didn't either; he just stood in the doorway, wary.

"You looking to stake me, or is this just going to be a lecture?"

"No stake," he replied flatly. "Unless you're looking for a snack."

Was there a trace of hopefulness there? Spike laughed darkly. "If I was looking for a snack you wouldn't last two seconds. You know that, don't you?"

"That a threat?" Xander asked, rising.

"No," Spike said, relaxing his guard a little and leaning casually against the doorframe. "An observation. Either you're incredibly stupid -- something I'm not entirely ready to discount -- or on some level you trust me."

"I don't trust you. Let me make that *really* clear. You might not be a killer now. You might even think you never want to be again. But when it comes down to it, you're a vampire, and vampires are killers."

"Yes, thank you for that stunningly insightful observation," Spike said dryly.

"Hey, I know you think I'm just some useless hanger on, and yeah, I know without the chip you could pretty much wail on me, but Buffy is my *friend.*"

"Oh yeah, here it comes," Spike rolled his eyes. "The protective big brother bit. Save it, peaches, I know the drill."

Xander wasn't going to back down that easily, however. He moved closer to Spike, clearly not the least bit afraid. "Buffy trusts you, and it will kill her if you prove her wrong. You hurt her like that and I will find a way to stake you. You got that?"

Several snappy comebacks sailed through Spike's head, but the image of Buffy, hurt by his betrayal, made him pause. Couldn't blame the lackbrain for feeling protective. "I got it," he said simply.

Xander paused, disconcerted. He'd been expecting a rejoinder, not a capitulation. "Fine," he said, backing down a little. "As long as we understand each other." Brushing past Spike, he left the room and headed for the stairs out of the basement.

"I'd rather die than hurt her," Spike said quietly over his shoulder.

Xander stopped. After a moment he looked over his own shoulder and met Spike's eyes. He stared Spike down a moment -- looking for a deception maybe? -- then just turned away and headed up the stairs.

NEXT

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