When You See Me Again

Chapter 15

A few months went by and the worst thing that had happened to Joyce was a head cold. Oh, and the fact that she was in the hospital for 5 weeks, not just a few.

It was cold outside the day before Buffy’s birthday. The air bit and it stung her lungs. Heading into Sunnydale Cemetery, she swung her axe she had brought with for slaying fun.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something flash by in the shadows. She smelled leather and cigarettes. Slowly, she turned in a circle around her. Buffy rolled her eyes, “Spike, come out! Why are you hiding in the bushes again?”

A low chuckle rumbled out of the dark, seeming to echo all around her. “Buffy.”

She headed to the voice, which was immediately on her left and stepped into the foliage. “Spike?” She cried out as she was pulled and then pushed up into a tree. “Spike?” More confusion in her voice.

“Sweet Buffy. Did I ever tell you that you smelled good every time I have ever been around you? I mean, demons, monsters, scaly smelly things—and you always smell good. Wonder why?” He looked down at her through the dark, leaning closer.

Her heartbeat picked up, “What are you doing? Why didn’t your chip go off when you grabbed me like that?”

A beat, and then, “Maybe it only goes off if I mean to hurt you, love.”

She felt herself start to pool into the molten fire that came whenever she even thought about him now. She was sure he could smell it, or sense it, or whatever vampire crap they used to find stuff out about now. Tentatively, she reached out and laid her hand on his leather-clad arm. It was the slightest of touches, but he froze. He looked at her hand resting there and put his cool one on it.

“I need to patrol, Spike. I don’t have time for your crap, okay?” Her voice was unsure and she didn’t move her hand.

“Did I tell you what I did to her?” His stare had turned into something, something tenderer, loving maybe? He ran his fingers on the one not busy hand, through the hair just to where her bangs should have been. Inhaling sharply, he broke out into a knowing smile and leaned even closer into her. “Did I tell you what I had with her?”

Confused, but no less aware, she pushed back on him, willing him away by her body language. “Spike, I-“

He turned, hearing a sound. “Listen, love, I don’t have much time, looks as though we’re to be interrupted, and I have some things to tell you.” He increased the pressure on one arm and leaned into her right ear, his unneeded breath blowing softly, just there. A whisper. “I have loved you more than I should have ever been allowed to. I needed you, even bloody longer than that. I just thought you should know’s all.”

And with that he disappeared again, dissolving into the shadows. Buffy, perturbed, walked back into the street lamps, and hurried to Giles’ apartment. Someone needed to help her, and fast.


“What could possibly have him acting this way? I mean I’ve been all bad Slayer, grrrr….arrgh, whenever he was around. Do I need to put up a sign that says, ‘Don’t really want to love the vamps anymore, stay out of my way, hell beast?’” She sat down on the couch exasperated. “That’s it, I quit! You think if I quit, he’ll find some other Slayer to love?” Thinking about that for a second, she shivered. Muttering, “Never mind, bad visual with Faith.”

Giles stood at the counter watching her tirade. As soon as she paused, he walked over with a slight grin on his face and squatted down right in front of her. “Tell him.”

“Who? What?” She scrunched up her nose at him.

“Tell him how you truly feel. I mean, he’s a rather sensible fellow, he should listen.” He started cleaning his glasses. “I know that if you don’t tell him, it will only make things worse.”

“I know that Giles, I just don’t know how to tell him, is all. Help!”

He smiled a small smile at her and stood up, placing his glasses about his nose once again. “Just tell him.” He started heading to the bathroom, a low laugh was heard on the way.

Rolling her eyes, she stood up, brushed herself off and headed out to find the Bleached Wonder.

Spike walked into the apartment not mere minutes from when she left. “Rupert?” He called. Not thinking he was there, he headed to the bathroom to splash some water on his face. Walking into the room, he was greeted by Giles, who was washing his hands. “I think we have a problem.”

Giles looked into the basin, “I know.”

“It’s getting too hard to be around here. Gonna have to leave, go home and whatnot.” The watcher pulled back, and Spike went to wash his face.

“I know.” He looked at the lack of reflection in the mirror, and smiled to himself, actually. “She can’t handle it like before.”

“That’s because, I think, you haven’t shown her what it means to be a soulless vampire. You did all those things you told me about, without one.”

Spike nodded, “Yeah. I know.”

Heading off-topic, Giles went out to the living room, Spike trailing. “Have you seen him?”

“Yeah, he was in the crypt watching the telly. I think he was heading off to patrol with her when I found her. Heard some sneaky thing in the brush around us, so who knows.” Spike pulled off the duster, and threw it on the edge of the couch, where he laid his head.

“Well, as long as he didn’t see you, then I think we’ll be okay.” Giles went to the kitchen, peering into the fridge. “Hungry?”


Buffy headed towards the crypt, stake in hand. She was going to put an end to it once and for all. When she reached the door, she got ready to kick it in, and was grabbed from behind.

“You know, I really think it’s not fair that I need an invite to get into anyone’s house, and you get to bash to door in, whenever you fell like it.” Some smoke curled around her head and she cockily turned back to look at him.

“Spike. I need to talk to you.”

He curled his tongue behind his teeth. “Whatever for, Slayer?”

“You know, the talk we had earlier?” She opened the door and walked into his crypt, sitting down in his comfy chair.

“Haven’t the vaguest love, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.” He slid up on the larger of the two sarcophagi. “Please, let little ole Spike know what’s in your noggin.”

She rolled her eyes and waved the stake in front of her. “I don’t have time for this shit, Spike. And why do you keep playing all multiple personalities on me?”

He reached in his coat and pulled out his smokes. Taking one out, he put it in his mouth and lit it. She watched in kind of a horrible fascination. “You know, if you were a human, you would have had cancer like 50 times over?”

“Hmmm….”

“Why do you do that?”

“What?”

“Just sit there, on that thing, and just do the ‘hmmm…’ thing? I mean unless you have a smart ass remark, you barely even talk at all.”

He smiled and then tilted his head just so. She mimicked him, but not in a nasty way. He took a drag from his cigarette and his friendly smile changed from a smile to a snarky smirk. Suddenly, she felt a sense of déjà vu come on, and visibly shook it off.

“Ghost walk on your grave?” He slid off and headed toward her in predatory walk. “Maybe some other beastie?” He reached out to touch her arm.

She shot out of the chair, nearly tripping as she headed for the door. “No, listen, I was wrong to come here tonight. I’ll s-s-see you later! Bye!” She ran out the door, feet flyin’.