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What to Expect, Part Three of Three
This is totally unbetaed because none of my old betas are still around. :o) This is also an old unfinished fic that I found in hunting down my other fics to have on my computer (lost them all, you know).
Part One
Part Two
Title: What to Expect
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Joss owns all…
Summary: Set after “Intervention.” Buffy takes care of Spike after the kiss.
Dedication: This fic is for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
__tiana__!
Author's Note: The third and final part is back to Buffy POV.
Part Three
Xander, Willow, and Dawn overheard Spike’s question, and they’re witness to my ministrations. Bandages and medical supplies litter the carpet at my feet.
I expect Spike to smirk, posture, and probably brag about me kissing him.
But he doesn’t.
I’m not sure if it’s because he genuinely cares about my little sister or if he is really too physically hurt to think of a witty come back.
Somehow I doubt these are the reasons he stays silent.
I kind of wish he would say something because then, I don’t have to figure out what to say. My busy brain is darting from one thought and excuse to the next, and my heart is hammering furiously in my chest.
Stupid fight or flight reaction.
Somehow I latch onto a coherent thought and that thought exits my mouth, “Spike was a mess. . . ‘thrashed’ as you said.”
My eyes flick to Xander, and he won’t make eye contact at me. He stares with tangible hatred at the vampire balanced on the sofa next to me.
If hatred was a demon, Xander’s would be loud and dangerous with some sort of magical ability that I don’t know how to defeat and neither does he.
“I didn’t mean for you to bring him here.” Xander sounds like he does when he’s upset about my associations with Angel. “And he’s half naked. What’s that about? I mean, yeah, he didn’t cave in to Glory, but that doesn’t mean you should cater to his disgusting fantasies about you.”
Willow is more tentative, and she edges in front of Xander, tugging the long sleeve of her blouse over her hand. “Buffy, we just redid the threshold spell.”
Her unsure approach leaves me more speechless than Xander’s anger.
What do I say to them? I kissed Spike because he saved Dawn from being captured by Glory? That won’t make much sense to any of them.
The kiss hardly makes sense to me, and I’m the one who deliberately chose the action.
Spike glances from one person to the next, no doubt putting the pieces together as he always does.
Shakily rising to his feet, he winces but tries to hide the pain.
My treacherous heart skips in concern.
His voice is a touch hoarse. “Right. Well, I’ll just be going now.”
Straightening his shoulders and proudly jutting up his chin, he limps toward the trio blocking the doorway, not very successfully trying to put his usual swagger into his step. He wisely chooses to pass along Dawn’s side to avoid further confrontation with Xander.
“Wait.” Dawn puts a small hand on Spike’s purple and indigo-covered forearm.
Spike is startled at her touch. “What, pigeon?”
He’s always warm and less irritable with Dawn. Even when I got mad at him for helping Dawn break into the Magic Box, he defended himself, yes, but he protected her even then.
What does this mean about Spike? If he does care about my sister, I want to understand why.
Dawn continues, “You should stay. It’s too sunny out there and you’re all hurt and stuff. You might be more likely to go poof. And Buffy already got you here. You should rest and leave tomorrow.”
Spike’s whole body softens, and the emotion in his face lays wide open for her. He doesn’t look anywhere but into her eyes as he replies, “You’ll have to ask big sis.”
Xander clears his throat. “Leave Dawn alone. Don’t try any of your vampire thrall tactics on her.”
Spike snorts and manages to cover his grimace by bracing himself with the doorframe behind him. “’Thrall tactics?’ That’s a Dracula deal. . .”
Moving to lean heavily on the wall, he rolls his eyes thoughtfully to the ceiling, sticking out a finger to punctuate his addendum, “Well, and Dru, but Dru’s is different. . . less poncy. ‘Sides Dawn here wouldn’t fall for something like that. She’s too smart.”
My protest comes out louder than I want, “Hey!”
“Wasn’t talking about you. It’s different with Dracula and Slayers. Unlike with Bug Boy here.”
“Hey!” Xander echoes, but the effort is weak because he’s embarrassed.
Spike grins, and somehow I know he can’t help himself.
Aim, shoot, score.
Willow is ever the peacemaker and offers a compromise, “So he stays the night. We all stay here, too.”
Her voice skips when she sees Xander’s glare. “T-to make sure he doesn’t make a move on Buffy and to make sure that Glory doesn’t get Spike while he’s all injured. We can re-do the magicks tomorrow.”
Dawn pipes up, “I like that idea.”
“That’s because you have a crush on Buffy’s crazy stalker vampire,” Xander retorts.
As soon as he says it, I can tell he immediately regrets the words. . . doesn’t mean them. He’s reacting and not thinking. He probably wishes Dawn still had a moon-eyed crush on him. What he doesn’t know is that she probably does.
Spike and Dawn glare at him, and Willow’s mouth hangs open a little in astonishment at the line he’s crossed. She chews her lip.
My mind is coming back online now, so I find firm words to grasp onto, “Okay, okay. We’ll be fine for tonight. Dawn and I will sleep in the same room for tonight, and Spike’s in no condition to make a move on me, so he’ll stay in Mom’s room or downstairs. Xander, I love you, but I’m going to ask you and Will to go. We. . . I just don’t need the tension right now with everything going on with Glory. Spike will go back to his crypt tomorrow after he regains some of his strength back.”
A little breath escapes me, and I search the room for the aftermath of my speech.
Several emotions war in Xander’s eyes, and he purposefully unclenches the fist that had balled up at his side. Shoving his hands in his jacket pockets, his words are clipped, “Fine. Will, let’s go.”
I can tell he wants to say more, but he’s holding himself back.
Worry in her big green eyes, Willow tucks a strand of scarlet hair behind one ear and searches her purse for her car keys. They rattle against her palm. “Call me if you need anything.”
Relief washes over me. “I will.”
She and I exchange small apologetic smiles.
As soon as they are out the door, Dawn slumps her shoulders and heaves a sigh. “Thank goodness.”
She turns to Spike. “Thank you for. . .”
Spike interrupts her, dismissing the significance of his actions to protect her, “Anytime, love.”
“For the record, I don’t have a crush on you ‘cause you’re all old and stuff.”
He chuckles. “Got that, pet. We have an understanding.”
So is that all it is. . . tit for tat? He helps my sister in exchange for what? To get closer to me?
Not too long ago Spike was deliberately and awkwardly trying to make sure he earned points for not eating attack victims.
I have to remind myself of these things to keep my head clear.
Dawn derails my thinking by announcing, “I don’t know *what* is going on between the two of you, but Xander’s right. It’s more than just a little weird. First, you.” She gestures at Spike.
His surprised expression is tinged with vague amusement.
Dawn shoves a hip out and ticks off his transgressions with her fingers. “You have a huge crush on my sister and start following her around all the time to prove that you’re worthy. You steal her pictures and stuff, and then you tie her up and offer to kill Dru to profess your love. And then, you build a robot of her. . . to have sex with or something. By the way, that’s just eww. And you.”
Her fingers motion at me in a similar fashion. “Spike does all that bad stuff, and you keep letting him work with everyone. Then, when you finally magically kick him out of the house, you end up kssing him and bringing him back here when he gets all wounded and stuff. There are *way* too many mixed signals going on here. I care about you both, but I give up, and I’m going to go upstairs.”
My sister doesn’t give either of us a chance to respond, her feet already trudging up the stairs as she calls down, “Work it out.”
Well, my friends and sister were a nice distraction from Spike.
Now I’m left alone with him.
He remains leaning against the wall but sags to the ground, a soft moan escaping his lips and a deep cough rattling his chest as his behind reaches the floor. He must have been trying hard to hold it together. I comprehend that he can probably be himself around me.
Before I quite realize what I’m doing, I’m squatting at his side, careful not to touch him. The earlier ease between us is gone. Am I giving him mixed signals? “You okay?”
Spike’s eyes are closed, his head back, but he murmurs, “She’s right, you know. They all are. Don’t know why you’re being so. . . .” A wave of pain stops him for a moment, but he finishes, “Nice to me after everything I’ve done.”
Maybe I am as mixed up as Dawn alluded to. I don’t know how to answer his query.
So I find myself leaning on the wall next to him with my hands moving over the smooth baseboards and my eyes shutting to mirror him. My words are honest, “I don’t know.”
For some reason, my mind flashes to the night I found out about how serious things were for my mom. When I was crying on the porch, Spike refused to go away. Instead, he joined me on the back steps for until I cried out all my tears. . . he was there for me, more present and still than he’s ever been with me.
"Because you’ve shown compassion to me and to Dawn when we needed it the most.” I hesitate but ask, “Why?”
I hear Spike shift. “Why what?”
“Why are you caring toward us?” Is it because I’m the Slayer, and you’ve always gotten your rocks off on messing with Slayers?
I feel nervous when he doesn’t answer right away, so I continue, “It’s hard. . . to know what to expect from you sometimes. I mean, you’re predictable in a lot of ways, but in others. . . when you’re kind. . . when you do unselfish things, it’s confusing.”
You see, these things make you more than a soulless creature in my mind.
More silence and then, “I don’t mean to be confusing, pet. I’m just following my emotions. . . and I think I’ve always had that. . . compassion in me. . . for the ones I care about.”
This time the silence feels companionable. . . comforting.
His next words are thoughtful , “To be honest, you confuse me, too. The little bit, I get her, but you. . . I still don’t know why you kissed me. . . why you’re playing doctor. I get what you said about helping Dawn being real and all, but you didn’t have to kiss me.”
“I guess I wanted you to know that it meant something to me. . . that it wasn’t a farce like the time Willow spelled us or. . . with the robot. I wanted to reinforce the good that I see in you.”
His voice is rough and low when he asks, “Trying to convince yourself or me?”
I try to wrap my mind around what he’s asking. “Of what?”
“That what you see. . . what you feel is real?” His earnestness is palpable and free of snark or sarcasm.
I can’t answer his question, so I’m silent.
Then, his cool lips slide tenderly over mine as he returns my earlier kiss. He doesn’t press to deepen the gesture of affection, and almost before I comprehend what is happening and can open my eyes, his touch is gone, and he grunts as he pushes himself off the floor.
“Gonna lie down on the sofa if you don’t mind. Get some shut eye.”
Heat flows into my cheeks, and I scramble to stand and offer him assistance.
He ducks his head. “Nah. I got it.”
I watch as he hobbles to his destination and cautiously eases his bruised but bandaged body down. He closes his eyes again, and satisfied that he is settled, I head for the stairs to join my sister.
His voice barely reaches my ears as my foot touches the bottom step, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being real. . . not just when we talked but when you took care of me.”
Even though he can’t see me, I turn back with a smile on my face. “You’re welcome.”
My feet are silent on the stairs.
I’m still not sure what to expect from Spike and don’t think he knows how to handle things with me, but today, I feel like we made a good start.
Funny that we could be most honest with our eyes closed.
We might have to try that more often.
9-19-15
Yay! I finished part three of an unfinished fic...first thing to post in a long time. It feels so nice to write again. I've written 40 pages of my other series and just have Epilogue to write now, but I'm saving all that newness for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
seasonal_spuffy.
Part One
Part Two
Title: What to Expect
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Joss owns all…
Summary: Set after “Intervention.” Buffy takes care of Spike after the kiss.
Dedication: This fic is for
__tiana__! Author's Note: The third and final part is back to Buffy POV.
Part Three
Xander, Willow, and Dawn overheard Spike’s question, and they’re witness to my ministrations. Bandages and medical supplies litter the carpet at my feet.
I expect Spike to smirk, posture, and probably brag about me kissing him.
But he doesn’t.
I’m not sure if it’s because he genuinely cares about my little sister or if he is really too physically hurt to think of a witty come back.
Somehow I doubt these are the reasons he stays silent.
I kind of wish he would say something because then, I don’t have to figure out what to say. My busy brain is darting from one thought and excuse to the next, and my heart is hammering furiously in my chest.
Stupid fight or flight reaction.
Somehow I latch onto a coherent thought and that thought exits my mouth, “Spike was a mess. . . ‘thrashed’ as you said.”
My eyes flick to Xander, and he won’t make eye contact at me. He stares with tangible hatred at the vampire balanced on the sofa next to me.
If hatred was a demon, Xander’s would be loud and dangerous with some sort of magical ability that I don’t know how to defeat and neither does he.
“I didn’t mean for you to bring him here.” Xander sounds like he does when he’s upset about my associations with Angel. “And he’s half naked. What’s that about? I mean, yeah, he didn’t cave in to Glory, but that doesn’t mean you should cater to his disgusting fantasies about you.”
Willow is more tentative, and she edges in front of Xander, tugging the long sleeve of her blouse over her hand. “Buffy, we just redid the threshold spell.”
Her unsure approach leaves me more speechless than Xander’s anger.
What do I say to them? I kissed Spike because he saved Dawn from being captured by Glory? That won’t make much sense to any of them.
The kiss hardly makes sense to me, and I’m the one who deliberately chose the action.
Spike glances from one person to the next, no doubt putting the pieces together as he always does.
Shakily rising to his feet, he winces but tries to hide the pain.
My treacherous heart skips in concern.
His voice is a touch hoarse. “Right. Well, I’ll just be going now.”
Straightening his shoulders and proudly jutting up his chin, he limps toward the trio blocking the doorway, not very successfully trying to put his usual swagger into his step. He wisely chooses to pass along Dawn’s side to avoid further confrontation with Xander.
“Wait.” Dawn puts a small hand on Spike’s purple and indigo-covered forearm.
Spike is startled at her touch. “What, pigeon?”
He’s always warm and less irritable with Dawn. Even when I got mad at him for helping Dawn break into the Magic Box, he defended himself, yes, but he protected her even then.
What does this mean about Spike? If he does care about my sister, I want to understand why.
Dawn continues, “You should stay. It’s too sunny out there and you’re all hurt and stuff. You might be more likely to go poof. And Buffy already got you here. You should rest and leave tomorrow.”
Spike’s whole body softens, and the emotion in his face lays wide open for her. He doesn’t look anywhere but into her eyes as he replies, “You’ll have to ask big sis.”
Xander clears his throat. “Leave Dawn alone. Don’t try any of your vampire thrall tactics on her.”
Spike snorts and manages to cover his grimace by bracing himself with the doorframe behind him. “’Thrall tactics?’ That’s a Dracula deal. . .”
Moving to lean heavily on the wall, he rolls his eyes thoughtfully to the ceiling, sticking out a finger to punctuate his addendum, “Well, and Dru, but Dru’s is different. . . less poncy. ‘Sides Dawn here wouldn’t fall for something like that. She’s too smart.”
My protest comes out louder than I want, “Hey!”
“Wasn’t talking about you. It’s different with Dracula and Slayers. Unlike with Bug Boy here.”
“Hey!” Xander echoes, but the effort is weak because he’s embarrassed.
Spike grins, and somehow I know he can’t help himself.
Aim, shoot, score.
Willow is ever the peacemaker and offers a compromise, “So he stays the night. We all stay here, too.”
Her voice skips when she sees Xander’s glare. “T-to make sure he doesn’t make a move on Buffy and to make sure that Glory doesn’t get Spike while he’s all injured. We can re-do the magicks tomorrow.”
Dawn pipes up, “I like that idea.”
“That’s because you have a crush on Buffy’s crazy stalker vampire,” Xander retorts.
As soon as he says it, I can tell he immediately regrets the words. . . doesn’t mean them. He’s reacting and not thinking. He probably wishes Dawn still had a moon-eyed crush on him. What he doesn’t know is that she probably does.
Spike and Dawn glare at him, and Willow’s mouth hangs open a little in astonishment at the line he’s crossed. She chews her lip.
My mind is coming back online now, so I find firm words to grasp onto, “Okay, okay. We’ll be fine for tonight. Dawn and I will sleep in the same room for tonight, and Spike’s in no condition to make a move on me, so he’ll stay in Mom’s room or downstairs. Xander, I love you, but I’m going to ask you and Will to go. We. . . I just don’t need the tension right now with everything going on with Glory. Spike will go back to his crypt tomorrow after he regains some of his strength back.”
A little breath escapes me, and I search the room for the aftermath of my speech.
Several emotions war in Xander’s eyes, and he purposefully unclenches the fist that had balled up at his side. Shoving his hands in his jacket pockets, his words are clipped, “Fine. Will, let’s go.”
I can tell he wants to say more, but he’s holding himself back.
Worry in her big green eyes, Willow tucks a strand of scarlet hair behind one ear and searches her purse for her car keys. They rattle against her palm. “Call me if you need anything.”
Relief washes over me. “I will.”
She and I exchange small apologetic smiles.
As soon as they are out the door, Dawn slumps her shoulders and heaves a sigh. “Thank goodness.”
She turns to Spike. “Thank you for. . .”
Spike interrupts her, dismissing the significance of his actions to protect her, “Anytime, love.”
“For the record, I don’t have a crush on you ‘cause you’re all old and stuff.”
He chuckles. “Got that, pet. We have an understanding.”
So is that all it is. . . tit for tat? He helps my sister in exchange for what? To get closer to me?
Not too long ago Spike was deliberately and awkwardly trying to make sure he earned points for not eating attack victims.
I have to remind myself of these things to keep my head clear.
Dawn derails my thinking by announcing, “I don’t know *what* is going on between the two of you, but Xander’s right. It’s more than just a little weird. First, you.” She gestures at Spike.
His surprised expression is tinged with vague amusement.
Dawn shoves a hip out and ticks off his transgressions with her fingers. “You have a huge crush on my sister and start following her around all the time to prove that you’re worthy. You steal her pictures and stuff, and then you tie her up and offer to kill Dru to profess your love. And then, you build a robot of her. . . to have sex with or something. By the way, that’s just eww. And you.”
Her fingers motion at me in a similar fashion. “Spike does all that bad stuff, and you keep letting him work with everyone. Then, when you finally magically kick him out of the house, you end up kssing him and bringing him back here when he gets all wounded and stuff. There are *way* too many mixed signals going on here. I care about you both, but I give up, and I’m going to go upstairs.”
My sister doesn’t give either of us a chance to respond, her feet already trudging up the stairs as she calls down, “Work it out.”
Well, my friends and sister were a nice distraction from Spike.
Now I’m left alone with him.
He remains leaning against the wall but sags to the ground, a soft moan escaping his lips and a deep cough rattling his chest as his behind reaches the floor. He must have been trying hard to hold it together. I comprehend that he can probably be himself around me.
Before I quite realize what I’m doing, I’m squatting at his side, careful not to touch him. The earlier ease between us is gone. Am I giving him mixed signals? “You okay?”
Spike’s eyes are closed, his head back, but he murmurs, “She’s right, you know. They all are. Don’t know why you’re being so. . . .” A wave of pain stops him for a moment, but he finishes, “Nice to me after everything I’ve done.”
Maybe I am as mixed up as Dawn alluded to. I don’t know how to answer his query.
So I find myself leaning on the wall next to him with my hands moving over the smooth baseboards and my eyes shutting to mirror him. My words are honest, “I don’t know.”
For some reason, my mind flashes to the night I found out about how serious things were for my mom. When I was crying on the porch, Spike refused to go away. Instead, he joined me on the back steps for until I cried out all my tears. . . he was there for me, more present and still than he’s ever been with me.
"Because you’ve shown compassion to me and to Dawn when we needed it the most.” I hesitate but ask, “Why?”
I hear Spike shift. “Why what?”
“Why are you caring toward us?” Is it because I’m the Slayer, and you’ve always gotten your rocks off on messing with Slayers?
I feel nervous when he doesn’t answer right away, so I continue, “It’s hard. . . to know what to expect from you sometimes. I mean, you’re predictable in a lot of ways, but in others. . . when you’re kind. . . when you do unselfish things, it’s confusing.”
You see, these things make you more than a soulless creature in my mind.
More silence and then, “I don’t mean to be confusing, pet. I’m just following my emotions. . . and I think I’ve always had that. . . compassion in me. . . for the ones I care about.”
This time the silence feels companionable. . . comforting.
His next words are thoughtful , “To be honest, you confuse me, too. The little bit, I get her, but you. . . I still don’t know why you kissed me. . . why you’re playing doctor. I get what you said about helping Dawn being real and all, but you didn’t have to kiss me.”
“I guess I wanted you to know that it meant something to me. . . that it wasn’t a farce like the time Willow spelled us or. . . with the robot. I wanted to reinforce the good that I see in you.”
His voice is rough and low when he asks, “Trying to convince yourself or me?”
I try to wrap my mind around what he’s asking. “Of what?”
“That what you see. . . what you feel is real?” His earnestness is palpable and free of snark or sarcasm.
I can’t answer his question, so I’m silent.
Then, his cool lips slide tenderly over mine as he returns my earlier kiss. He doesn’t press to deepen the gesture of affection, and almost before I comprehend what is happening and can open my eyes, his touch is gone, and he grunts as he pushes himself off the floor.
“Gonna lie down on the sofa if you don’t mind. Get some shut eye.”
Heat flows into my cheeks, and I scramble to stand and offer him assistance.
He ducks his head. “Nah. I got it.”
I watch as he hobbles to his destination and cautiously eases his bruised but bandaged body down. He closes his eyes again, and satisfied that he is settled, I head for the stairs to join my sister.
His voice barely reaches my ears as my foot touches the bottom step, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being real. . . not just when we talked but when you took care of me.”
Even though he can’t see me, I turn back with a smile on my face. “You’re welcome.”
My feet are silent on the stairs.
I’m still not sure what to expect from Spike and don’t think he knows how to handle things with me, but today, I feel like we made a good start.
Funny that we could be most honest with our eyes closed.
We might have to try that more often.
9-19-15
Yay! I finished part three of an unfinished fic...first thing to post in a long time. It feels so nice to write again. I've written 40 pages of my other series and just have Epilogue to write now, but I'm saving all that newness for
seasonal_spuffy.
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You're amazing! Thank you so so much! I have some stuff that I've been slowly tracking down and putting into word documents. I'll message you my email...
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Things are good for the moment, which is all I can ask for. All my files are in Word .doc format.
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Gabrielle
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Thank you so much for re-reading and for taking time to comment!! *hugs* It's so wonderful to see your name pop up on LJ! Really set after FFL, huh? I haven't read any and was just thinking about that episode. This story was based on someone on flist asking for it (I feel bad that it took so long to finish).
Are you participating in Seasonal Spuffy?
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I'd always loved the simple purity of the post-Glory kiss. The other time Buffy and Spike were so intimately connected without the complications of sex was in the motel(?) when all they did was hold each other all nigiht long. I miss the thinky aspects of the show.
BTW, considering where the storyline went, can you imagine how things would have happened if Spike's character had been eliminated after a few short appearances, as originally intended?
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Thank you so much for reading! I miss the show, too.
And if they cut Spike's character as planned...boy, it'd be a very different show! What do you imagine would have happened?
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