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The Hardest Thing in the World by Eowyn315
 
Fire and Brimstone
 
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Chapter 6: Fire and Brimstone

Spike stared at the freshly filled grave in front of him and cocked an eyebrow. “You sure this is the right place?”

Willow bit her lip. “Positive. Arthur K. Finley. Early morning jogger. Horribly tragic death by neck trauma. Got it straight from the Sunnydale police crime report.”

Spike looked over at her, amused. “You know, some people might use their computer hacking skills for slightly less macabre purposes.”

“That’s what makes me special.” She grinned, and the ground before them started to stir. “Ooh, think our guy’s waking up.”

“You wanna take this one, or should I?” asked Spike, as two fists punched their way through the dirt.

“Got it.” She rummaged through her shoulder bag for a stake and a small cloth pouch, then prepared herself to try a new spell. Spike stepped back to allow her room to work.

As soon as the demon formerly known as Arthur Finley was fully out of the grave, Willow threw a handful of dried herbs on him. As he sputtered and blinked in surprise, she said, “Immobilus.” The vampire was frozen in place, and she staked him with ease.

Spike shook his head at the witch. “Think that’s cheating, love.”

Willow just giggled, dropping the stake and herb pouch back into her bag, and the two fell into step as they continued on their rounds through the cemetery. They walked in silence for a bit, and Spike pulled out his pack of cigarettes, lit one, and inhaled, shoving the rest of the pack back into his coat pocket.

“Spike?”

He glanced over at her, blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth in order to direct it away from her. “Yeah, love?”

“Is Buffy… is she okay?”

“You’re the best friend, pet. Why’re you asking me?”

“I – I don’t know.” Willow lowered her eyes to the ground as she walked. She certainly didn’t feel like the best friend. “It’s just… she’s been distant lately.”

“Yeah, she has.” Spike took a drag on his cigarette. No, she’s not okay, you stupid bint! he wanted to scream at her. She’s barely hanging on by a thread, can’t you see that? But he held back, knowing it wasn’t what Buffy wanted.

“It seems like she… talks to you.”

He tilted his head and blew more smoke into the air. “A little bit. Slayer’s not big on the sharing.” And what she had shared, he reminded himself, he had promised never to tell, even if it was killing him – and her.

“I just thought she’d be more grateful, is all. After what I – we did for her.” Spike bit back a nasty remark. He had to remind himself that Willow honestly thought she’d done a good thing. “I mean, we brought her out of hell, the least she could do is be happy about it.”

Spike gave a non-committal shrug. “Maybe she’s still adjusting.”

“She asked me to move out.”

His head snapped toward her. “She what?”

“She said she wanted things to be normal again, just her and Dawn.”

Spike’s senses alerted him to a vampire and he turned to see it charging at him from behind a crypt. He kicked it in the face, engaging the vamp without breaking the conversation with Willow.

“She’s trying to – ungh –” He grunted as he planted a left hook on the vampire’s chin. “…distance herself from you.” He ducked a punch and landed a kick in the stomach, knocking the vamp backwards. “So you won’t see her when she’s not totally in control. Slayer doesn’t like seeming vulnerable.”

Willow nodded awkwardly, not sure whether to step in and help Spike or just keep talking. She stood off to the side and watched, since Spike didn’t appear to need help. “You shouldn’t let her withdraw,” he advised, while executing an impressive elbow jab-kick combination, and not for the first time, Willow envied the vampire’s lack of a need to breathe. She’d have been a wheezy mess if she tried to carry on a conversation while doing… what the hell was that? It looked like Spike was going for a kick to the head, but he planted his foot on the vampire’s shoulder and vaulted himself clear over his head, doing a little flip to land on his feet behind his opponent.

Okay, no amount of oxygen would enable her to do that. “Show-off,” Willow muttered.

“I’m not saying you should – oomph – force yourself on her,” Spike continued, absorbing a kick to the stomach. “Can’t very well say no if she wants you to move out.”

“So what should I… oooh,” she winced, as he took several punches to the face in quick succession. “What should I do?”

“Toss me a stake!” Spike shouted, recovering to block the vampire’s blows. Willow pulled one out of her bag and threw it to him. He caught it and staked the vamp in one fluid movement. “Game over.” When he turned back to Willow, she half-smiled.

“Actually, I meant what should I do about Buffy?”

Spike cocked his head to the side and blinked. “Right,” he replied, back on track with the conversation. “Can’t force her to open up, right? Just stick by her, much as she’ll let you. And give her time. Can’t expect her to be happy all the time right away.” He measured his words, wanting to give the girl some guidance so she’d make things easier for Buffy, but knowing that he’d have to tread delicately around the subject of her adjusting to the world.

Willow opened her mouth to protest – Buffy should be happy – but a look from him stopped her.

“It’s just… she needs peace, you know?” Spike’s voice was heavy with experience. “When you’re dead, it’s quiet. There’s a reason they say ‘silent as the grave,’ right? Coming back here, the world overwhelms you a little.”

She looked at him, puzzled. “But Buffy was in hell.”

Spike shrugged. “Not all hells are fire and brimstone, love.” He gave her a pointed look. “I think, wherever she was, it wasn’t what you’d expect.”
 
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