LAST ORDERS


CHAPTER FOUR



Buffy smiled as she placed the curry, rice and chips in front of the diners in the corner booth. Chips, not fries - weird as it was to her. The English seemed to have strange tastes in food, but she was getting used to serving the meals without a grimace. She was still feeling quite optimistic about the future, despite the fact that she was completely swamped with orders and had barely had time to sip her drink since she’d walked through the door. Geno had given her a very appreciative wolf whistle when she’d removed her heavy coat and she’d nodded in acknowledgement, feeling – for once – like maybe she didn’t have such a bad life after all.




She knew the feeling wouldn’t last past the return to her bedroom and the long, lonely hours of the night when her mind wouldn’t rest but tortured her with images of Spike and what could have, should have, been. But for now, she could simply be satisfied with being somewhere familiar and keeping her mind off the ever present vampire that loomed large.




By the time her break came around, she had to remove her shoes and massage her swollen feet before she could even sit down. Her ears were buzzing with the loud, pumping music that was the trademark of Friday nights at Mandi’s and she couldn’t shake the feeling of imminent vampire activity that had the back of her neck prickling. With all the sounds and smells and sheer volume of people around, Buffy wrote the feeling off as simply confusion of the senses and gulped her iced water noisily, digging into the plate of curly fries and dip that balanced on her knee and chewing distractedly. As she sat, she contemplated what had got Giles so freaked earlier that he’d actually allowed her to run amok with his credit card. It must be pretty big, because he didn’t even baulk when she bought the most garish pair of shoes she could find, trying to provoke him into a ‘if a fashion magazine told her to strap cats to her feet, she would’ comment. No. Nothing. Very strange.




Geno bellowed for her before long, so she cleared away her plate and glass and washed her hands, checking that she didn’t look too horrific before going out front again.




As she pushed through the swing doors from the kitchen area, Buffy stopped dead, assaulted by a feeling she thought never to experience again. Obviously, the Powers had decided that her attempt at moving on with her life was not a good idea and were now messing with her to such an extent that her slayer senses were convinced that if she searched the room, she’d find Spike.




She growled, making a man on the end bar stool fall off, and muttering a hasty ‘sorry’, hurried past to clear plates. She was so engrossed in her task that it took a few shouts from Willow before she registered her presence, spinning round with empty plates balanced on her hands.




“Willow! Hi! I thought you were on a retreat?”




”Yep, I was. Came back early and thought I’d come catch up. You’re looking mighty fine, Miss Summers. Better watch yourself as I’m between babes right now.” Willow grinned to press home that she was only joking. Hot as she was, Buffy Summers was far too high maintenance for Willow Rosenberg.




Oh. And then there was the vampire…




Buffy dumped the plates and hugged Willow, a wide smile splitting her face. “‘I’m so glad you came, I’ve missed you! And you could have fleeced Giles with me if you’d come home earlier. Check out this outfit – all courtesy of Bank of Giles, I swear. He was majorly freaky today so I took advantage. Wish I could feel guilty.” She giggled and Willow smiled back.




Buffy grabbed the plates again and walked towards the kitchen, Willow keeping her company. ”You here on your own, Will?” Buffy asked.




Willow blushed. Why on earth Giles had sent her ahead to talk to Buffy, she’d never know, as she was the worst liar ever in the whole of time. It took all the self-control that she had not to blurt out the fact that deep in the shadows at the back of the bar was Spike, bouncing up and down like a jack-in-the-box, barely restrained by Giles on one side and Xander on the other. Horrified, Willow focused on Buffy’s questioning face and garbled something about no, Xander was with her and would Buffy join them on her break? Buffy bit her lip, her break just having finished, but nodded. Geno would let her do anything once she flashed him a smile and a pout.




By the time Willow extricated herself and scurried off, she was sweating and shaking, sinking into her seat and grabbing Xander’s beer to down it in one before she could even speak.




Spike couldn’t wait past ten seconds before he shoved Giles out of the way and grabbed Willow ’s hand, forcing her to look at him. ”Well? What did she say?”




Willow was still in shock and the beer had gone straight to her head. “Huh? Who said?” She stared at Spike, completely at a loss for a second or two before recalling why they were there. ”Oh! Buffy! Erm…yeah, she’ll come over when she’s on a break.”




“Right then. Good.” Spike settled back into his seat and tried to relax, one Doc Marten tapping time on the table edge until Xander knocked his booted foot off his knee. A tussle broke out between the two that forced an intervention from Dawn, Willow, and Giles, and it took a further round of drinks to settle them down, the three more sensible of the group separating the two testosterone-fuelled males around the table.







Just as Spike was about to vault the table and go in search of Buffy, patience being the least of his virtues, the lady in question appeared, breathless and flushed, in front of the booth, smiling widely and removing her apron. She spotted Dawn and started to rip into her for being in a pub when her eyes were drawn to the figure she’d memorised and that haunted her every living minute. Her tirade faltered and stopped as her brain caught up with her eyes, her legs shaking so hard that she staggered forward and leaned on the table top.




“Spike?” Buffy whispered, scarcely audible in the noisy pub, not even blinking in case that made him disappear. The Scoobies switched their gaze from Buffy to Spike, anticipating his response, nerves shredded. His smile was almost beatific, blazing out from the darkness in its intensity. They all held their breath until he answered.




“Evenin’, pet.” Hardly Shakespearean as comeback speeches go, but definitely Spike. Dawn giggled, earning her a raised eyebrow and a quick smirk from the vampire, and a glare from her sister. Like watching a tennis match, attention moved from the vampire to the slayer, awaiting her return volley.




“Are you…are you real? What are you doing here? Where have you been? Are you dead? I mean…of course you are… you are, aren’t you?” Buffy delivered her questions in a rush of husky whispers, eyes never leaving him. Giles stood and guided her to a chair, fearing imminent collapse as she appeared not to be breathing. Buffy uncharacteristically allowed herself to be tugged forward, sinking into the chair gratefully having never stopped gazing at Spike.




Before Giles could regain his seat, Spike stood and pushed past him, sitting on the edge of the table mere inches away from Buffy and looking at her hungrily. He inhaled to settle his nerves before speaking. “Yeah, ‘m real. Yep, still dead. The where I’ve been…that’s the tricky part.”




Suddenly Buffy leant forward and grabbed his knee, fingers digging painfully into his flesh. “But you’re staying, right? I mean – no going ‘pouf!’ or anything?”




Spike grinned. “Far as I know, I’ve got me that slice of immortality again, same old vampire lifespan.”




Buffy smiled, her eyes filled with the spark that had been missing for so long, gazing adoringly at Spike and completely ignoring the sniffling that came from Dawn as she watched from the far side of the table. Even Xander was affected by the reunion, surreptitiously wiping at his good eye, although he’d deny it if challenged. Willow was hugging on to Dawn’s arm and trying to stop her wobbling bottom lip, sniffing too as the tenderness between the two warriors gave everybody warm, happy feelings. Giles sat back in his seat and crossed his arms smugly, full in the knowledge that when all was done, Buffy would thank him for bringing Spike back to her – after she'd slapped him about, of course for keeping her in the dark in the first place.




Spike was speaking softly, Buffy rapt with attention, her hand still on his knee but now covered with his, their fingers interlaced. Dawn was simply ecstatic; she’d known it would all go smoothly, that true love would out, and here were all her dreams coming true.




Or not.




Buffy jumped to her feet, the chair toppling backwards with a clatter, her eyes no longer warm, but full of hurt. Spike stood, holding out his hands imploringly.




“Love, let me explain…I thought it was for the best. Couldn’t touch anything, couldn’t even leave Peaches’ side at first. Couldn’t bloody use a telephone, could I, with ghosty fingers, and don’t think I didn’t try.”




Buffy struggled to keep calm, her fists clenched at her sides. “Okay, say I let it go that you didn’t have somebody tell me you were back – what happened then? How long was that for? You’re not all see-through now, look pretty solid to me.”




Spike took a deep breath, old habits dying hard, his eyes flicking over Dawn and Willow clutching each other with mouths open, Xander nodding encouragingly, and Giles taking comfort from the well-worn ritual of cleaning his glasses. Nothing left to do now, but tell the lady exactly why, when undying love had been sworn, he’d not raced to her side the minute he could.




“Thing is, Buffy – see, after Sunnydale, I was a hero, died saving the world. The resurrection lark was a bit unexpected and I railed and kicked at it, but there was nothing I could do ‘cept suck it up and wait and see. And the longer I stayed and watched those people fighting and fighting…well, I got a new perspective, didn’t I? Every day they dealt with the devil and every morning they started again, and I was part of it, making a difference. Not just tolerated – folks liked me, relied on me. I was needed, appreciated even.”




Buffy crossed her arms, her lips set in a hard line. “We fight evil. We fight lots of evil, you were there, fighting it with us. I remember.” Her last words were tinged with bitterness and also a challenge. Spike dipped his head, afraid to meet her eyes.




“It wasn’t the same. You know it. In LA, I was part of the gang, not just a dog waiting for scraps. Even Angel gave me some respect towards the end there.”




Buffy flipped, stamping her foot and screeching, shrugging off Giles’ attempt to calm her as the heads of the diners whipped round to see what the commotion was. “You lived in my home, you looked after my sister, we were…” Buffy’s voice caught as the emotion overwhelmed her. “We were…I thought we were…that last night…”




“Thought we were what, Buffy?” Spike bit his lip, nervously chewing on the flesh as he waited for her answer. Her friends had given him hope that this thing between them was real, but would she admit it, out loud, in front of everybody? Actually dare to say that she felt something for him? If she did, it would be the first time ever and he ached for the words to tumble out. Her eyes showed the conflict she was fighting inside and Spike reached for her, only to be rebuffed by her hand quickly slapping his away.




“You’ve no idea what I’ve been through since you’ve been gone,” Buffy whispered, her eyes filled with tears. “Every day, touching your things, trying to remember your face, clutching on to your clothes just to smell your scent – making myself crazy and crying myself to sleep into my pillow. And you were here, not being bothered to see me. Guess I was right the first time – you’re an evil, undead thing and you can’t love.” With a raw sob, Buffy stalked away, closely followed by Spike and after a short delay to recover from the shock, the Scoobies.




Dawn mumbled to Willow as they followed the vampire, “That went well, huh?” and grimaced at the witch’s hesitant shrug. They caught up to Buffy and Spike just outside the entrance, the two superheroes engaged in a bitter shouting match that was a harsh word away from descending into blows.




“I told you I loved you – held your hand and told you! Flames, linked fingers, remember?” Buffy snarled at Spike, her hands bunched into fists.




Spike assumed a very familiar, and very arrogant pose, hips thrust forward, one hand ghosting down his chest to rest on his belt, his mouth running off with itself despite his brain’s best efforts to head it off. “Yeah, love. I remember – but let’s face it, it’s not the first time you’ve said something you didn’t mean, right?” Spike was horrified with himself, but it was too late. Buffy gasped, hurt and angry, and slapped him hard across the face. Before anybody could move, Buffy and Spike were involved in a bruising tussle, complete with snark and growls that had the onlookers huddled together.




Dawn was inconsolable, all her plans disintegrating to nothing, and to top all that, it was entirely possible that she’d lose either a sister or a friend in the vicious battle now taking place. She tried screeching, but it had no effect. In the end, after much imploring, Willow took pity on the girl and intoned a small spell that pulled the combatants apart to land a few feet away from each other. Both were panting and bruised, glaring at each other…




…but there was more than anger and hatred in that look. Willow bit her lip and smiled smugly. If she wasn’t very much deceived, they’d just witnessed vampire and slayer foreplay. All they had to do was wait…




Buffy had other ideas, however. Her head was muzzy and aching, the emotion and shock she’d experienced in the last half hour taking its toll. She wanted to run and cling to him, wrap him tight and never let him go, but how could she when he’d so obviously cared so little for her that he’d let her carry on thinking he was gone when he’d been back and living an entirely different life without her.




So, in time honoured Buffy fashion, instead of running towards him, she ran away.




Spike stared after her, jaw open, until he recovered himself and ground his teeth together, turning to the group of shell-shocked friends. “Told you it was a bad idea, Rupert. Still, least I know where I stand now. Fucked, that’s what I am, and not in a good way. So, I’ll need a ride to your gaff to collect my stuff then I’ll be off, probably look Faith up, see if she and that wanker she’s shacked up with need a hand in Cleveland.” His words were hard, but his eyes were suspiciously misty, his jaw working against the emotions he couldn’t hide from them.




Dawn rushed to stand in front of him. “You’re not giving up?” she queried, gripping his arm and forcing him to look at her. “You know she’s just shocked, right? Buffy doesn’t do well with surprises, you know that. She’ll calm down, Spike. Please?”




Spike gave her a wry grin. “No can do, Bit. Been there, done that – can’t do it again. I told you – I’m done playing kick-the-Spike. She’s not changed, I have. I’m sorry, I really am.”




Dawn folded her arms and pouted. “So, this is it? All those times you’ve cried on my shoulder and told me how much you love Buffy and you give up after one measly fight? Thought you said sparring with Buffy was like third base?”




Giles cleared his throat with embarrassment, Xander only stopped from prodding the vampire to protest that statement by Willow ’s restraining hand. She knew from past experience that if anybody could wheedle and persuade Spike to do something he didn’t want to, it was Dawn. And although at first Willow had become involved in Dawn’s plan reluctantly, now that she’d had the chance to see the spark return to Buffy’s eyes and had even admitted, albeit just to herself, that she’d really missed Spike in a strange way, she desperately wanted things to work out. Somebody deserved some happiness.




Eventually, as Willow predicted, Dawn’s charms worked on Spike enough to persuade him to return with them, although he refused to go to Giles’ London home. After much protestation, Xander was volunteered to lend the vampire a bed for the night and the unhappy housemates sulked petulantly as they made their way out of the pub. Spike wouldn’t be pressed on whether or not he’d see Buffy, refusing to join in any further conversation on the subject and growling quite menacingly when Dawn opened her mouth to whine one last time.




As the weary crowd headed back to the Range Rover, however, Willow gave herself a small self hug. Despite much evidence to the contrary, she still believed in the power of true love – and she finally allowed herself to accept that the feelings between the slayer and the slayer of slayers was just that.




tbc