Conversations

Author: Skybound

Summary: Buffy and Spike Reunion set post Angel season 5 episode “Shells.” Spoilers up to that point.                          

Disclaimer: All Hail Joss

Rating: PG-13 for some cursing

Feedback: Yummy and delicious treats!

 


Conversations




Tiny lights flickered: green, amber, red, green, amber, red, along the twisting boulevards in the city below. Spike watched the monotonous flow of traffic from the rooftop of Wolfram and Hart in an alcohol-scented haze. The nights since Fred had been boiled from the inside, only to be reborn in blue as Illyria, had passed by in a similar fashion.

He tossed an empty bottle to the side, where it joined an every growing pile, and ran a calloused hand roughly over his face.

“Fuck.” He released a heavy sigh as he lifted his head upwards; eyes clenched shut against the night.

“Hell of deal ain’t it, Fred? Believe it or not, I know what it felt like. That burning sensation, starting in your gut and just clawing it’s way through you, until there’s nothin’ left but ashes.

“Only, somehow, I got to be swept on back together. While you…you just went ‘poof’. Didn’t ya’? No, fine fair-thee-wells. No peaceful little afterlife for you to meet up with your chums in later. Though I suppose, Angel and myself would have been conspicuously absent from that reunion, but can’t have everything can we?

“But, if it helps ease the pain any: Gunn’s bedridden and jobless, Lorne’s pretty much gone into a state of semi-comatose mourning, I’m good and sloshed – ‘s why I’m talking to you after all – Angel is doing what Angel does best. He calls it ‘researching’, the rest of us call it ‘Gold-medal award-winning brooding. The breakfast of champions’.” He sighed heavily once more, watching the ebb and flow of the traffic below.

“And Wes, Wes is making nice-nice with the blue-haired birdy who took up residence in your old digs.” He grabbed the nearest bottle to him and took a deep swig, sputtering a bit from the taste before he glanced at the label, “Jack Daniels…Wine Cooler? How the hell’d that get here?” The bottle slipped from his fingers then, fluttering through the air, red-tinted liquid seeping out as it tumbld to the ground. A few cars swerved out of the way, only to crash into each other and end up in a pile up outside the front lobby.

Spike’s left eyebrow quirked at the sight down below as the drivers of the vehicles climbed from their cars and began an all out shouting match.

He sat, statuesque a moment longer before the laughter begun to bubble up and out his throat. Soon he was clutching his abdomen as he pitched forward slightly in a fit of hysterics. All the pain of the current situation, mixed with everything else insisted on being released, however it could. The absence of any ground beneath his feet brought him back to the present as he remembered he was perched precariously on the edge of the roof.

“Well, Fred, been nice chattin’, but I think now would be a good time for me to-“ He caught sight of someone looking up at the roof and pointing, “Yep, definitely time to go now.” And with that Spike quickly flew back to the stairs and off of the roof.

 

~----\/----~


Spike turned around, shaking his head as he entered Angel’s office, muttering beneath his breath as he did, “Daft bint, good thing she’s so easy on the eyes.”

Angel looked up from the paperwork at his desk as Spike entered, “Who’s that?”

“The incredible pink wonder that is your secretary.”

“Oh.” Angel dropped his eyes, shuffling through the papers once more, as Spike made his way to the large picture window across the room.

“Looks like someone had a bit of a fender bender out there.”

“Hmmm…”

Spike glanced back over at his grandsire, noting the disheveled appearance of Angel's clothing, and decided it was high time to lighten the constantly dreary mood that pervaded the office these days. “Hope it wasn’t anyone important, like some big To-Do client…” Still Angel managed to appear utterly indifferent to what Spike was saying. Must be losing my touch… “or that Dana chit, wouldn’t want nothin’ to happen to her before your next big date night. Is it time for the full moon yet?”

Angel sighed, "Her name's Nina."

"Nina, Dana. Both end in 'A' and have a tendency to go for the throat."

Angel glared up at the blonde pest that Raid had yet to make a product for, “What do you want, Spike? Did another car break down? Are you out of booze? Did you break that silly video-game contraption of yours again? Or do you actually have something important to contribute? Because, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m busy with a few things here!”

“Haven’t found anything yet, huh?”

"Not a one." Angel rubbed the bridge of his nose as he released a heavy breath. "Doesn’t mean I’m going to stop looking.”

“Maybe you should.”

“What?”

“You got hair-gel in your ears? I said: Maybe. You. Should. Something else is coming Angel, and all this searching for a way to save Fred? It’s just putting off the inevitable. You know it. I know it. Hell, even Wesley knows it. We should be putting our efforts into looking for the Big Bad that’s coming.”

“I’m not so sure it isn’t right here.”

“I am sure it is right here, only it’s not even vaguely Fred-shaped. So, that’s gonna turn up nothing but loose ends.”

“Maybe. What do you suggest?”

“Make some popcorn and watch the blonde firecracker down on the sidewalk fight with whoever the unfortunate sod was who ran into her car. Looks a little like Buffy from up here actually. Could be a fun fight.” Spike’s eyes sparkled with mirth as he entertained the thought before he was hit squarely in the chest with a book. “What the –“

“If you want to hang out here, you’re going to work.” A light smile played on Angel’s lips as he strode back to his desk. “I don’t care if we don’t know what we’re looking for. Something will come up, it always does.”

Angel sank back into his chair as Spike took up residence on the couch with the book. “Well, aren’t you just the cheeriest little leprechaun slave driver.”

“Shut up, Spike.”

“Poofter.”

Spike.

“Pops.”

Spike…

“Oh, ye of the helmet hair. Ow! Watch where you throw those things, you could hurt someone!”

Angel merely arched a brow at Spike as he watched him pick up the half-dozen scattered pencils from where they lay in his lap, “That was the general idea, now get to work.”

“Ponce – Hey!”

 

~----\/----~



Unbelievable! Buffy couldn’t believe the nerve of some people. Trying to blame the accident on a bottle of alcohol ‘falling from the heavens.’ More like a bottle of alcohol had fallen down their throat. Some people really shouldn’t be allowed behind the wheel. After all, this accident was obviously no indication whatsoever that her own licensing nearly six-months ago was a mistake.

And, she had in no way shape or form influenced the evaluator of her driving test to pass her by bursting into tears and explaining how she had just lost everything in the sinking of Sunnydale and that she would be leaving the country soon anyway, so she really wouldn’t be a hazard to any Americans until she had lots and lots of oversees practice. There was no subtle death threat either. No sir. Completely on the up and up.

Buffy’s thoughts were yanked abruptly back to the present as she stepped into the ground floor lobby of Wolfram and Hart. Her peach lined lips formed into a silent ‘O’ and a low whistle escaped her mouth as she took in the massive interior.

She made her way over to the front desk, noting with some amusement that the guard appeared human enough, probably a front so the public wouldn’t really know what went down on the upper floors.

“I’m looking for Angel and Spike.”

The dark haired guard looked up at her, his thick eyebrows bunching for a moment as if he was trying to remember something. He took a moment to look down at his computer monitor, then typed in a few words, before his eyes fairly bulged from his skull, making Buffy reconsider his human-status.

“Um, yes Ms. Summers. You just want to take the elevator over to the left.” He gestured nervously behind him, and Buffy blankly nodded, not really sure she wanted to know just how he knew who she was.

Should’ve brought more weapons.

As the doors to the elevator closed in front of her the guard picked up his receiver to buzz up to let them know the Slayer was on her way.

 

~----\/----~



“Gees, alright already, can’t a girl take a break?” Harmony huffed as she made it back to her desk to answer the incessantly ringing phone. “Wolfram and Hart. Oh. Ohhhh. She is? Oh-kay, thanks for –“ Just as Harmony was finished talking with Ronald from security, the elevator doors opened to reveal none other then the Devil herself. “Thanks for the warning, Ron.” Harmony sneered into the phone as Buffy caught her eye, causing her to slam the phone down a little too hard and break the cradle, “Oopsie.”

“Harmony?” Buffy couldn’t bite back the laugh in her throat at seeing the vampire behind the counter. Oh, this is too much…

“Yeah?”

“Well, now. This place just keeps on getting more and more interesting.”

Harmony smiled nervously up at the other girl, reaching protectively for the unicorn on her desk, before asking if she could help her with anything.

“Oh, I’m certain you can.”

 

~----\/----~



Neither blonde nor brunette lifted their heads from the books they were reading through, as the doors to the office opened. They had both been ‘researching’ for the better part of an hour in, mostly, companionable silence. A few minutes before, the two had both lifted their gazes from their respective books, something having grabbed their attention. But neither mentioned the distinct scent of the Slayer they thought they had caught.

Angel chalked it up to the power of suggestion, what with Spike having mentioned Buffy earlier, and tension from not sleeping well, or at all, lately. Spike assumed it was simply wishful thinking and a mild hallucination being brought on by the alcohol that was still making up the majority of his bloodstream at the moment.

“So, pretty impressive setup you got here. For an inter-dimensional corporation of unspeakably evil proportions that is. Got a good health plan?

Harmony chirped at her, “Yeah-huh, with Dental.”

“Buffy?” Confused liquid brown eyes alighted on the spitfire standing to the left of his bubbly secretary in the doorway.

Hazel eyes flashed as they scanned the room, flickering for a moment on its two occupants. The slayer stepped further into the room, her hands resting on slender hips as she continued to speak.

“I was in Rome. You know. ROME. As in Italy. But I’m sure you already knew that. Multi-million dollar psychics at your disposal, and all, didn’t even have to give a name at the front desk. The guard just looked at the computer and knew who I was. I shouldn’t have to say how eerie that was.” She shivered visibly, before she continued.

“So where was I? Ah, yes. I was in Rome. There was shopping, and food, and the kind of artwork my mother use to rave about. And I was…I was doing well.”

Buffy stopped pacing the room momentarily; an air of sadness cutting through the waves of rage radiating off of her, but only for a moment…

“I get this call, from Andrew. I’m sure you remember him Angel…what with him and a dozen slayers stealing what must have seemed like such a precious prize from you and your bosses.

“She wasn’t-“

“Don’t bother explaining, Angel. That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here?” Angel’s annoyance was clear. The last few days had been anything but peaceful, and the last thing he had time to give a damn about, was how Buffy felt about his new job.

“I was getting to that. Where was I? Oh right, Italy. Call. Andrew. So he’s frantic.” Light laughter escaped Buffy’s throat at the thought, shaking her head. Spike smiled slightly as he watched her with fascination, mesmerized by the mere presence of her in the room.

“Frantic. Well, a frantic Andrew is pretty much impossible to deal with, but eventually I gleaned a few words out of him. Mostly sounding like: Spike, apocalypse, and Gand-alph – whatever that is – there might have been a Frito in there as well, I’m not quite sure. Finally he begins to form sentences again and imagine my surprise when he does.” Her gaze finally settled on Spike, her jaw set in a hard line as he unwaveringly met her eyes.

For his part, it was all Spike could do to keep his emotions in check. Part of him was overjoyed to see her, and was urging him to grab hold of her, right now! Another part of him, the scared part that belonged to William, wanted desperately to retreat into a corner and alternately vomit and sob. Still the last part, the part that was winning out, was warning him to be cautious. Telling him, she came all this way across an ocean and a continent, possibly because she had found out about his continued existence. And until she made it clear what her feelings were on the matter, he should just sit still, and be patient.

But being patient was never a virtue Spike had in abundance.

 

~----\/----~



“Buffy…”

“Don’t. Just – just don’t.”

Spike watched as Buffy slowly wrapped her arms around her chest as she stared off into the blackened depths of the ocean.

It had been less then an hour since she had first shown up in Angel’s office, all righteous fury and, well, righteous fury pretty much summed it up. He had tried to remain quiet and hear her out. Listen while she flung angry accusations both Angel and his ways. Eventually Angel began slinging back and the fight began to escalate. At first, Spike just enjoyed it, always had loved watching his girl fight, and listening to some of the things she said to Angel had warmed his very soul.

Ten minutes had gone by before he had said anything, something inane and harsh, intending to break up the little show. It hadn’t been anything particularly witty or memorable, but it had been enough. Buffy had stopped mid-tirade and stared at Spike, looked at him like she had never seen him before.

And bolted from the room.

It hadn’t exactly been the ‘Welcome Back’ he’d been hoping for.

 

~----\/----~



The ocean breathed soft breaths of salty air with each wave. In and out. In and out. Like a living being, it’s fingers lapped softly at her toes, promising so much it it’s chilly embrace.

She used to love the ocean. Would spend hours on the beach laughing and playing volleyball with her friends. Talking about this boy or that movie, and my god did you see what she was wearing, doesn’t she own a mirror!

It seemed so long ago now; Buffy thought it might have been the memories of some former life. One where she’d never been a slayer. Never seen the dark things that lurked in the shadows, just beyond your sight. Much less sought them out and hunted them down so that they wouldn’t pray on others. Certainly it was a life where she never gave her heart to not just one, but two of those damned creatures.

But, this was her life. All fucked up situations included. Accept no substitutes.

It was enough to make the cool peace of the ocean seem more then inviting.

“Buffy…”

His voice, like liquid velvet on her skin; did he have any idea how just the subtle vibrations of her name on his lips sparked nerve endings in her body she was unaware she had? He must not, if he did he certainly would have called her, would have allowed her at least the simple release of hearing his voice. Would have relieved her of the dreams and uncertainties that had plagued her days since his sacrifice.

“Don’t. Just – just don’t.” Time passed, the water a metronome, counting off each moment, reminding her how little time there was.

“You know what I like about the ocean, Spike? It looks so calm, even when the waves are breaking. It just looks like it has it all under control. It makes pretend that it knows which way is up, when the next storm is going to come. But, it’s just as clueless as the rest of us, it just knows better then to show it.”

The pause stretched out, subtle sounds of the water rumbling in their ears. Spike joined Buffy, shoeless at the edge, and wondered when she had become so eloquent. Figured some of the culture of Rome must have seeped into her bones. Either that, or she had just never really been given the chance before. His brows scrunched up as he debated the possibilities in his mind.

“It’ll have been a year next month.” And this time she lifted her gaze from the ocean, considering him with a soft look, all the anger from when she confronted him earlier seeming to have been drained from her body.

“I know.”

“I can’t – I can’t say how many days exactly, I was never that good with the math. But, believe me when I say, that I felt it everyday that went by.” She turned away again, her arms wrapping around herself once more. That move was quite familiar to him.

“Felt what, Pet?”

“Felt you die. I’d wake up; my hand would feel like it was on fire. And more then once I’d doubled over with the pain. Could feel you. Wasn’t sure why, but I could. Just chalked it up to my ‘inability to deal with grief’, at least that’s what Dawn thought. She claimed I was repressing my emotions.” Buffy snorted as she spoke.

“Girl’s always been perceptive.”

“Nah. It’s that fancy European school Giles’ got her in, filling her brain with psychobabbely-nonsense.”

She smiled at him then, a soft warm smile that was infectious. The conversation took a slightly more light-hearted turn from there; questions regarding everyone’s health and current locations:

How was Dawn doing in those fancy classes?

How did Harmony end up working for Angel?

Was the whelp still in Africa?

What does whelp mean, exactly?

Were there any boys Spike needed to talk to about keeping their hands where they belonged, namely away from his Lil ‘bit?

One more time, about Harmony…

You changed your hair.

You didn’t change yours…

Was Giles having fun turning Andrew into his own little tweedy replica?


They laughed together, for what seemed like the first time that either could remember; the tingling sound reverberating off of the rocks nearby only to be swallowed up in the ocean, or carried away on the tide.

“Where did you go, I mean, after?”

Spike gazed at her then, trying to gauge what kind of answer she was looking for, but she gave no indication of what she wanted. Always so hard to tell with her. Girl should sell Cliff’s notes.

“Not really sure, pet. Wasn’t much of anywhere, I think. Got swallowed up, soul, demon, leather coat and all into the little bauble of light that was hanging ‘bout my neck. Came too a bit less then a month later, all swirling dust and pain, not too mention mighty confused. Here I thought I had just died to save the world. Figured I would have something waiting for me on the other side. I knew better then to think it’d be heaven. Don’t think I could ever do enough to earn myself a pass there. But, I was ready for hell. At least I thought I was. Found out later how much I bloody well am not ready to suffer internal damnation just yet.

“But, instead – instead I came to all ghostly in Angel’s office. Figured I must have made a right mess of things, being condemned to eternity in Angel’s presence. But, in the end I found out that I was just being played by some petty lawyer type with a vendetta against the Big Poof. He eventually got around to making me all nice and corporeal again a few months back, just to have the senior partners suck him up for a nice chat.”

Buffy just nodded, not completely understanding, but taking in what he was telling her and matching it up with the bits and pieces she’d received from both Andrew and Harmony.

“Why didn’t you call? You know, when you could pick up a phone again.” Silence was her only answer as Spike tried unsuccessfully to phrase what he’d been feeling. Her voice sounded so small and sad when she spoke again.

“Didn’t you miss me? Even a little?” She raised her eyes to him then and Spike was struck by the naked vulnerability that he saw in her face. That wide-eyed stare of hers turned his insides into mush.

Spike took a step towards her then, his fingers ghosting over her newly darkened locks, not wanting to scare her off. “Everyday.”

“Then why?”

Suddenly the words seemed so easy, “was scared. Scared of what you’d think of me. Scared that you wouldn’t want to talk. Wouldn’t want anything to do with me. Thought you’d think I was a failure. Here I’d gone out in flames, for you, for the world, for the sake of puppies and kittens, and all that rot. And I just get mojo’d back from the lesser beyond, for what? To make scary faces at Angel while he slept? Seemed a bit of a let down. Not too mention…”

She had watched him as he spoke, so close to her she only needed to lean slightly, and she’d be against him; his scent intoxicating after having been gone from her for so long. “Not too mention what, Spike?”

He cleared his throat then, breaking eye contact with her. He couldn’t think straight when she looked at him like that. He’d been managing fine on his own since he’d been back. Felt stronger then he had in quite some time. Felt like he was in charge of himself, had a purpose, even if it was to be Angel’s glorified sidekick.

“I needed time. I needed to get things sorted out. Figure out where I stood. I didn’t figure I could just squirm my way back into your life without you asking again. Thought I’d spent too long fitting myself into someone else’s world, and maybe I should try making my own way for once. Was gonna leave here soon, actually. Angel planned on paying my way just to get me out of his sight, said he’d set me up at another office if I wanted. Thought about going to Italy then, maybe showing you that I could do something besides the smash and bash, maybe show myself too. Course, that was before the whole thing went down with Fred.”

“Fred?”

“Oh, yeah. Guess you never got a chance to meet her. Sweet enough bird, got her soul vaporized into non-existence by a former diety-demoness who’s now wearing a pretty little Fred suit.”

“Huh.”

“My sentiments exactly.”

The silence lingered for a while after, both content to stare off into the salty air, it always seemed so much easier without the talking. It was something that Buffy had grown accustomed to last year. Just being with him, neither one of them saying or doing anything. Just taking comfort in each other’s presence. Of course, she had often wondered how much of that was simply pretense; a meager attempt at avoiding difficult questions and even more difficult answers.

A melodic giggle danced back across the water towards him, the sound of which triggered memories of spells and weddings. “Ahh, it never ends does it, Spike?”

“World be bloody boring if it did.”

“And we can’t have that now can we?”

“You’re asking the wrong questions, pet.”

“Oh, sorry, my mistake.” She cocked an eyebrow at him, the move oddly reminiscent of something he’d do. “What should I be asking, oh-wise one?”

The two of them fell into an easy step, following along the edge of the water. “You should be asking if you’d even want it that way. Cause somehow, I don’t think you would.”

“No, I don’t think I would.”

“Of course, the first time Buffy Summers actually agrees with me, there’d be no one around to hear it.”

The look she gave him made his smile falter. “I’ve agreed with you a lot, Spike.”

He considered her for a moment before conceding, “but never about the right things.”

“Spike, I –” Her voice cut off as she slowed her steps and turned to face him, uncertain of what to say. How do you explain to someone that you have trouble breathing when they’re near, let alone expressing how you feel? How, could she put into words emotions that she couldn’t even name? That she felt lost, and unsure? That the nights all blurred together one after another, interspersed with dreams that had her waking in tears? That she wasn’t all right. That she would never be all right. That the world was a fucked up confusing place where the bottom could be pulled out from under you at any moment, and that all you loved could be lost.

And that she wouldn’t have it any other way? How do you explain something like that?
She didn’t think she could, so she didn’t even try.

 

~----\/----~



His skin tingled where her hand skidded lightly across his arm. The pleasure of it shot straight through him, his eyes pulled closed of their own accord as he fought to brand this moment in his mind.

“So, I’m guessing what happened with Fred was the Big Bad that Andrew was talking about.” The sound of her voice broke the spell her touch had weaved, snapping Spike to attention.

“Don’t rightly know. Something’s brewin’, and we don’t have clue one what.”

“Well, so it’s a research party we’re heading back to then?”

He cocked his head at her, his skin still burning where her hand rested on his forearm. “We?”

She slid her hand down along his arm, and slowly intertwined her fingers with his. The touch of his hand against hers sent strange tingling sensations upwards, warming her chest. She spoke as she started walking with him again, “Yes, we.”

Spike smiled at her then, a genuine warm, child-like smile, and she felt lighter inside then she had in more then a year.


~End~

 

 

Author’s Note: This was written for the Spuffy ficathon, the recipient wanted:
Timeline: Late S7, or AtS S5
One or Two Things You Want to See in the Fic: Bit o' angst, reconciliation, teamwork.
One or Two Things You Don't Want to See in the Fic: Darkfic, character bashing.

 


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