A/N - thanks so much for the wonderful reviews I've had, you've made me smile :) See? This will be my last update until Saturday; hope you enjoy.



LAST ORDERS




CHAPTER 5




Buffy stormed into the house and slammed the door, warping the doorjamb as she did so. Taking the stairs two at a time she hurled herself into her bedroom and bounced face down on the bed, taking huge gulps of air in an effort to stop the tears that choked her.




She failed; her eyes were closed and swollen by the time she’d managed to stop sobbing.




Spike. He was back. Had been back for at least a year by his own admission. Hadn’t bothered to contact her.




The tears started again and she let them flow until she had no more left. Her cheeks ached, her teeth too. It wasn’t unusual, Buffy conceded, for thoughts of Spike to result in tears. Since Sunnydale it was more or less the norm, although she’d fought hard to conceal the true depth of her misery from her sister and her friends. And now he was here and everything had gone wrong. And after he'd gone to all the trouble to come find her...how on earth had Spike found her anyway? Wasn’t like she was where he’d last left her, because that would be fleeing for her life and leaving him burning in his soul’s fire. No. Best not to contemplate that, her eyes wouldn’t stand any more moisture. But how did he guess where she was? She wasn't listed, no 'Slayers-r-us' entry in the directory, and she doubted the newly formed council would assist him, even if he had contacted them. Maybe Angel? No, that wouldn't happen this side of hell freezing over.




With a chill of certainty, Buffy realised that Dawn, Giles, all of them had colluded, doing what they thought was best for her as usual. Had they all known for all that time that Spike was back, had watched her grieve and wish for an end? Were they having meetings behind her back, trying to structure her life for their convenience? No, Dawn wouldn't...she thought she wouldn't; she just didn't know anything any more. Again she cried, but didn’t know why; this time their interference probably was the best for her She should be happy; the love of her life was restored to her and she had been inches away from his cool caress this evening. But instead she was alone and desolate, pride and the feeling of betrayal that she couldn’t shake cloaking her in misery. As if on remote control, she shuffled off the bed and found herself standing before her makeshift shrine. Her hand automatically reached for the journal and the scraps of material that had long since lost his scent, the charcoal drawings, crumpled from when she’d ripped them down from his crypt, horrified that he had the very same thing going for her. A shrine.




The soft click of her door had her tensing her back. She didn’t turn round, her entire body screaming ‘leave me alone ’, but kid sisters have a free pass for that one, so it didn’t apply to Dawn who closed the door and leaned against it. She didn’t speak until Buffy turned to face her.




“Are you done?” Dawn questioned, eyes flinty and arms crossed. “Happy now?”




“What?” Buffy gasped out, hurt that her sister was attacking rather than consoling. “Why would I be happy, Dawn? Oh, let’s see, I forgot – the man I’ve been grieving for is back in living colour. Yay me. But no – that can’t be right because if he was back, he would have run to my side the minute he could, wouldn’t he, not hung about with strangers and not even told me? And my friends, my sister – surely they would have told me as soon as they found out and end my suffering? When exactly was that, Dawn? Were you all having a good old party on the moral high ground for the past year, keeping the crazy slayer from the arms of her sick and disgusting demon lover? No answer, huh?” Buffy was almost purple faced from her rant, and Dawn had no idea how to reply, so didn't bother. “Thought not. Scooby silence it is then. So yeah, I’m ecstatic, thanks.”




Dawn snorted, plopping herself down on Buffy’s bed and looking at her older sister with Joyce’s wise eyes now that the tantrum had ended. “Buffy. You wanna work that one out in your head a little?” Dawn spoke softly, her voice slightly amused. “I get that you're mad at us, and believe me, when Giles dropped his little bombshell a couple of days ago I showed him what the wrath of Dawn felt like. Nearly broke my hand on his stiff upper lip, but...anyway. Giles knew about Spike being back all last year, we didn't. When we did, we got him to come see you. And maybe we should have just told you and let you figure it out yourself, but we didn't so that's it. If you wanna freeze me out, go right ahead. Wouldn't be the first time, and I'll deal, we all will. But Buffy, what exactly are you mad at Spike for right this minute? The fact that he's back or the fact that he didn’t tell you he was back?”




Buffy frowned, not sure she understood the question. “I don’t get you.”




“It’s simple,” Dawn explained in Giles mode, “are you glad Spike’s back?”




Buffy nodded, not meeting Dawn’s eyes. “Of course I am.”




“Then you’re mad at him for not getting in touch.”




“Yes.” Buffy’s voice was high and tight with emotion. “He said he loved me…he said...he said he'd never leave me. And he burned, and I told him how I felt and he didn't believe me. And all this time I could have had a second chance to show him, and he didn't love me enough to let me try...” The words trailed off into a whisper.




Dawn stood and walked towards Buffy, reaching out a hand to stroke her arm. “He does, Buffy. Believe me, he does. Give him a chance to explain?”




Buffy refused to look up. She felt stupid now it had all been broken down for her. She’d reacted badly to the revelation that Spike was back, not even letting him tell her why he hadn’t been in touch. Despite all her promises to herself, all her daydreaming, that if only she could see him things would be different, when it came right down to it, she’d kicked him in the head and ran away. She supposed it was an improvement in that it was only a metaphorical kick in the head but still. She’d blown it, again. “Is he here?” Buffy asked, already moving towards the door, her pulse quickening.




“No,” Dawn stated. “He … he wouldn’t come.”




“Oh.” Buffy’s hand dropped from the doorknob, her shoulders slumped. “Right.”




“But he’ll come back tomorrow, I’m sure he will,” Dawn hastened to reassure her. She just hoped she was right; Spike was pretty dejected by Buffy’s reaction.




There was now an uneasy silence, both sisters scared to say more, for in doing so they could make their fears solid. Buffy walked past Dawn and rifled in a drawer for her pyjamas. “I’m gonna get some sleep.”




“Yeah, you should…I should. Sleep is of the good. Sleeping and dreaming, always good. So that’s… good.” Dawn was babbling in a manner that wouldn’t embarrass Willow, shaking herself to break her geek trance before quickly striding over to Buffy and placing a soft kiss on her sister’s cheek.




Whether either of them would sleep or dream was another matter entirely.




+ + + +




There had been little sleep had in Xander’s apartment, there being three occupants when it was only meant for one. Ever gallant, Xander had given up his bed to Willow again, and that left the couch to be squabbled over by himself and Spike. When Xander pointed out the chair in the corner, almost identical to the one that Spike had spent some uncomfortable nights being tied to in Xander’s parents’ basement in Sunnydale, a heated argument ensued and Willow had been forced to threaten them both with a silencing spell. When that didn’t work, the bleary-eyed witch muttered something about men thinking with their trouser parts, being all testosterone fuelled and such, and that she’d take their parts away if they didn’t let her sleep. Both males sulking, Xander had eventually lost out to Spike and hunched himself up on the chair for an uncomfortable couple of hours, trying to ignore Spike’s whispered taunts until they both finally fell into exhausted slumber.




When they awoke, they’d just carried on baiting each other and Willow shrouded herself with a muffling charm that tuned most of it out. As the day wore on and there appeared to be no sign of Spike making moves to go and see Buffy, Willow managed to persuade Xander to check out what was going through Spike’s mind.




Nothing, apparently, apart from whatever trash he could find on the TV.




After being ignored and sneered at in equal measure by the vampire for even suggesting that Spike may want to give some thought to how he would make things right, Xander threw up his arms and admitted defeat.



“Willow, you speak to him. I’m done. Not like I care ANYWAY!” Xander bellowed the last word past Willow’s shoulder so that it reached the ‘him’ in question, Spike gifting Xander with the v-sign and a ‘fuck off’ for good measure.




Willow shook her head at the boys’ antics, but secretly was encouraged. If Xander and Spike were snarking, surely things were going back to normal? And normal for Spike was loving Buffy. All she had to do was get Spike Buffy-adjacent and let nature do the rest. Didn’t she?




So, she’d better get to that then. What would entice Spike near to Buffy?




“Who fancies a drink?” she offered, brittle smile on her lips.




“Nice try, Red. Not workin’ though. I’m done being the Slayer’s chew toy. Only stayin’ here so’s I can make plans, get old Rupes to set me up with some dosh by way of a leaving gift. You could order in though, wouldn’t say no to a shot of Jack with you.”




Willow thought fast, because staying in was not part of her game plan. “But...but…I’m hungry. You must be hungry, Xander. We could go get a bite to eat, have a few drinks. I’ll call Giles. You don’t want to stay cooped up in here, do you?”




“Give it up, pet. I’m not goin’ to that bar no matter how prettily you beg. Nothin’ you can say or do will make me set foot in there again.”




Willow huffed. “Oh now you’re just being difficult. And I know you’re dying to go and see her, so don’t mess with me. Be sensible, Spike.”




“Bein’ sensible, first time in bloody ever where Buffy’s concerned. ‘sides, she knows where I am if she wants to see me. I’m a modern vamp, ‘m not gonna go all shy if a lady wants to make the first move. Won’t hold my breath though…oh, right, haven’t got any to hold.”




Seeing Spike and hearing his trademark wit forced a reluctant smile on her face. Willow could almost visualise the sitting room at Revello Drive around them, its familiar furnishings rather than the bachelor minimalism that Xander’s small apartment had. It was comfortable, familiar. Before she could help it, she heard herself speak.




“I’ve really missed you, Spike.”




Xander did a double take worthy of an Abbott and Costello sketch and Spike shot her a look equal parts shock and affection. But it was only the truth. And surprisingly, her spontaneous outburst seemed to do the trick.




Spike ruffled his hair as he sauntered past Willow with a swagger, heading for the kitchen. He shouted back over his shoulder while waiting for his blood to heat in the microwave, “Suppose I could sink a pint or two, Red. Keep you and the whelp company if you like. Not like I have to speak to the Slayer, do I? Might not even see her. Just a few drinks, bein’ sociable, that’s all.”




Willow grinned shouting back ‘sure!’ and running into the corridor to call Giles and Dawn to make sure Buffy would be at Mandi’s.




+ + + +




By the time Giles returned from work, Dawn was pacing the hallway nervously, biting her nails to bloody shreds. Buffy had been like a statue all day, was still in her pyjamas even though it was gone four o’clock and had been staring at the wall almost unblinking for the past hour. Dawn had tried everything: chocolate, ice cream, telling Buffy she’d borrowed her best silk sweater and ripped it on the sleeve – but nothing got a reaction. Dawn was shaken by that, but more so by the fact that Spike hadn’t come bursting into the house swearing undying love the minute the sky grew dark. That’s why she was lying in wait in the hall.




“Oh. It’s just you. I thought…never mind.”




“Sorry to be a disappointment, Dawn. I take it you were expecting someone else?” Giles asked as he shrugged off his coat and hung it up, stashing his briefcase below the hall table.




“You know I was! Have you heard anything?”




“No. And I haven’t pressed the issue. To be honest, I don’t know which of them is more stubborn, and I don’t really care to find out. I think we’ll just have to…”




The shrill ringing of the telephone interrupted Giles’ speech, and he reached to answer, grateful for the reprieve from Dawn’s wobbling bottom lip and tearful eyes.




“Yes, hello? Willow. How are things at your – oh! You have? Well, yes, I think we can do that. No, I’ve just got in, Dawn’s been…yes, I’ll hand you over.” He offered the receiver to Dawn and moved past her to see for himself the state of his slayer.




Buffy didn’t acknowledge his presence, continuing to stare at the wall. The living room was in darkness save for the flicker from the television screen, and Buffy was hugging her knees on the couch. She screwed her eyes up in reaction to Giles turning on the light, but didn’t speak.




“Buffy. How are you feeling?”




She shrugged, hugging her knees even tighter, not looking at him.




Giles decided to try a different tack. “You know, it’s getting late. You’d better get a move on if you don’t want to be late for work.”




“Not going,” she muttered, barely audibly.




“Nonsense! Of course you must go, people are…are relying on you to be at the pub. It’s your duty.”




The glare she shot his way froze him as he was reaching to pat her arm. He drew his hand back as if burnt, waiting for the tirade to assault his ears. It didn’t. Her voice was cold and calm when she spoke.




“Duty? How dare you talk to me about duty. Haven’t I lost enough of my life to duty?” Buffy sighed, her shoulders slumped again, the animation in her face gone. “I’ve had enough of duty, Giles. Hasn’t gotten me anywhere except rock bottom. So no – I don’t think I will be going to the pub, sorry. There’s no point. No point to anything really…”




Tears trickled down Buffy’s face, and it broke Giles’ heart to see it. He avoided meeting her eyes, hating himself and feeling guilty for hiding the fact of Spike’s resurrection from her. She could have had happiness, he supposed, in some short measure at least. But truthfully, he wasn’t all to blame. He doubted anybody would be able to engineer a smooth reunion between such a stubborn couple, both of them not wanting to be the one to make the first move and both of them hiding their true feelings from friends and family, not to mention themselves.




He was determined to make things right, though. No matter what it took, he would get Buffy to the pub where she would talk to Spike and they would have the happy ending promised to heroes.




Or his name wasn’t Ripper.




+ + + +




In the end it was Dawn’s whining that persuaded Buffy to shower and change, moaning all the while and sulking beyond bearing. It was past the start time of Buffy’s shift when she got to the pub, accompanied by her sister and Giles, but that didn’t really matter as the minute Buffy got behind the bar, she poured herself a double shot of bourbon and gulped it down, refilling her glass even as she pulled a face and stuck out her tongue at the sour, burning taste.




“Bleaaargh!” she shuddered, barely pausing for breath before swallowing more. Giles opened his mouth to protest her reckless actions, but swallowed down the words as he floundered as to what he could say, really. Buffy was an adult, she’d had a tremendous shock, and truthfully, he’d found his own solace in drink in far less trying situations. Maybe he should simply be there for her, should she need to lean on him. He wouldn’t let her down, not again.




He drew the line, however, at Dawn becoming a degenerate drunk, and whipped the shot glass out of her hand before she had time to swallow down the Jack Daniels she’d somehow managed to obtain.




“Giles!” Dawn whined, “I was only keeping Buffy company!”




“I’d rather,” Giles hissed “you kept a clear head, Dawn, given the situation. Willow and Xander will be here shortly with Spike – if all goes to plan, though goodness knows why it should – and let me remind you that we have two abnormally strong beings who may very well try to rip out each other’s throats for all we know… Anyway, one of us needs a level head.” And he downed the shot himself.




Dawn snorted; Giles was so far behind clueless he’d never catch up. Rant and rave as she might, Buffy would never harm Spike – well, not fatally – and Spike would rather stake himself than hurt Buffy. No, it was all going to be alright, she just knew it.




Providing Buffy was still conscious when Spike finally arrived…




tbc