Now and Then

Spike shoved a black T into an extremely over stuffed duffel bag. Glaring at the remaining pile of clothes, he couldn’t help
wondering how he had managed to collect so much stuff. When he left Sunnydale, the same bag had been half full. Then it had contained all his worldly possessions, now he couldn’t even fit half of his wardrobe. One day with her and he was back to living out of a bag and running for his unlife.

The more things change…….

Leaving the thought half finished, he grabbed the bag and stomped into the living room.

“No, no message.”

Spike stopped short at the sound of Buffy’s voice. She was holding the phone, eyeing it like it just tried to punch her in the
face.

“Simple concept there, Slayer, push the button that says end.”

Buffy slowly looked up from the phone and fixed him with blank stare.

“I’m dead” she stated softly

Spike snorted and moved past her.

“Well it hasn’t affected your powers of observation.”

Stomping into the kitchen, Spike began stacking jars of blood in a big cardboard box. Calmly working his way through a very lengthy and detailed lament on how much he was going to miss his microwave. His inner bitch session was interrupted by the sickening thud of bone connecting with concrete. Rushing into the living room, he arrived just in time to prevent Buffy’s fist from imbedding itself again in his wall. Tugging on the now blood soaked limb, Spike pulled her into the kitchen and shoved her hand under the faucet.

“Bloody hell, Buffy, What is wrong with you?”

Buffy stared at the swirl of blood disappearing down the drain.

“I’m dead.”

Spike flicked up an eyebrow, “Yeah”, he said slowly, “And?”

“the.. the phone… and she said…. and they…. and……”

“I’m going to need you to use a couple more verbs. You know…. those words that describe just what in the hell you are blathering on about.”

Buffy swallowed hard and Spike was shocked to see a sheen of tears in her eyes.

“I called Dawn.”

Spike felt his spine stiffen and fought hard to keep a note of panic from his voice.

“And how’s the bit doing?”

“She wasn’t there…….she was at…… my funeral.”

It was Spike’s turn to swallow the lump blocking his throat.

“Her roommate said it was a car accident. That I…..I was so badly…… damaged….. in the wreck they had to……had to cremate me.”, tears were flowing freely down Buffy’s face now, “Why, Spike? Why do they think I’m dead?
Why do they think..?”

Spike pulled her quivering body against his and buried his face in her hair. He had decided, during his long wait in the hotel room, that there was no power on earth that could make him tell her what the scoobies had planned. He still couldn’t believe, after all these years, that those white hats still didn’t get it. Souled or not, it still hurt like a bugger when your
loved ones turned their backs on you. Whatever it took, he was going to make sure he never had to see the evidence of their final betrayal in her eyes………Whatever it took. Lifting his head, Spike fixed her with a steady gaze.

“Because that’s what I told them.”

Buffy pulled her head up and stared at him.

“What? You told them I was dead. Why would you do that?”

Spike ran his hand over her mouth and smiled.

“Had to explain your disappearance somehow.”

Buffy spun out of his grasp and stalked across the room. Picking up the phone she shoved it towards him.

“Well unexplain it. Tell them the truth.”

Spike slowly walked towards her, ignoring the outstretched phone.

“Tell them what, Buffy? That you’re a card carrying member of the ‘evil undead club’ now. Mind you, I probably won’t have to. I’m sure they’ll figure that out the first time you have one of the niblets friends for a snack.”

“I would never…..”

Spike took the phone from suddenly nerveless fingers and cupped her chin.

 

“You would never?…… Why don’t you tell that to the poor sod, who’s throat you ripped out in the alley?”

If possible, Buffy seemed to get paler.

“I…..I….”

“Yes,……… you. It’s time you faced reality. You’re not the slayer anymore, you’re a monster just like the rest of us.”

Buffy sunk slowly to the couch and stared blankly at the wall. After a moment another wave of confusion crossed into her eyes.

“But how did you-“

“Look Buffy”, Spike broke in, before she could ask things he didn’t have answers too, “Right now, some very unpleasant men, who most likely, will be sadly lacking in the neck area, are on their way and I really don’t want to be stuck here playing twenty questions when they arrive.”

Something in his clipped tone must have penetrated the fog in her mind because Buffy jumped off the couch and grabbed one his packed bags off the floor.

Nodding slightly, she headed towards the front door. Spike picked up the remaining bags and brushed past her. Barking orders, he opened the door.

“Right then. We’ll get these things in the car and then I’ll have to come back for the-“

Spike was cut off as a fist connected with his nose. Stumbling back against Buffy he looked into the extremely pissed off face of Jules.

“Oh, bloody hell.” He muttered, dropping the bags.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Spike sat on the couch next to Buffy. For all intents and purposes, he looked calm, collected and superior. Inside though, his guts were churning. Jules had taken a seat in the chair next to the couch and had just been sitting there staring at them for the last five minutes. It was seriously getting on Spike’s nerves. Controlling the urge to jump up and throttle Jules,
Spike let his gaze slide over the other occupants of the room. Five of Jules best were strategically placed around the apartment. Any one of them could have qualified for their own zip code. For the most part, their features were
obscured by their size. Not that Spike would have given a second thought to taking them on, but the outfits they were wearing gave him more than enough incentive to stay put. Each one had been outfitted in an armor type suit,
except instead of metal they were covered in row after row of tiny wooden stakes. One bear hug and it would all be over. Looking back at Jules, Spike drummed his fingers impatiently on his knee.

“Coffee? Tea?” Spike asked, lathering each word with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

Jules sat further back in the chair and proceeded to look down his nose at the two vampires.

“Spike, you always were a cocky little shit weren’t you…..Actually that was one of the things I enjoyed most about you.”

A cold smile spread across Jules face and Spike felt Buffy shiver beside him. He threaded his fingers through hers and gave them a light reassuring squeeze. An action that was not lost on Jules.

“I had such high hopes for you, Spike. Since we got that silly chip modified you were truly coming into your own.”

Spike felt Buffy stiffen beside him, but she didn’t release his hand.

“I’m a simple man, Spike.”, Jules said leaning forward, “Lots of good food, a roof over my head and my family happy, that’s all I want. So when someone hurts one of mine, I tend to get upset. Now you and that thing ”, he said gesturing to Buffy,
“made my Abby cry, which under other circumstances I might be willing to overlook, you know how emotional woman can be. But you broke my number one rule, Spike. I gave you a direct order and you chose to disregard it. I can’t
have my men doing whatever they please. What kind of businessman would that make me?”

Jules let his cold gaze pass over the silent couple and continued on as if they had answered.

“That’s right, not a very effective one. So that said, I believe it’s time to terminate your contract.”

Standing up, he headed towards the door throwing instructions over his shoulder on the way out.

“I’ll be waiting in the car. Try not to take too long, boys. I promised I would be home for dinner.”

Spike was on his feet in seconds, pulling Buffy behind him. He slid into game face and prepared to defend them against unbeatable odds. Just as the first mountain of flesh and wood approached he felt a sharp tug on their still entwined hands. Ducking to his left, he threw a sharp jab into the face of his attacker and glared back at Buffy.

“What?”, he hissed, “Can’t you see I’m a little busy here.”

“Yes”, she said, reaching around him and punching the same man in the mouth, “but we can’t fight these idiots for long. We need a plan.”

Spike dropped her hand and picked up the coffee table.

“Well please”, he said, tossing the table at two swiftly approaching goons, “don’t hesitate to enlighten me when you come up with something.”

Grabbing her shoulders, Spike dropped to the floor and rolled a few feet to avoid the shower of stakes the man by the door was shooting out of a tuned up crossbow. Buffy peered out from underneath him.

“Wish I had one of those. Wonder where he got that?”

Spike glanced up at the man reloading, then at the four sets of feet running towards them.

“Well when we’re done here, how bout we all go for a drink and you two can swap numbers.”

Scrambling to their feet, Buffy and Spike slowly backed up against the wall, fists raised and fangs bared. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, Spike couldn’t help the tiny thrill that ran through him when he glimpsed Buffy in full vamp glory. He guessed that now was probably not an appropriate time to tell her how beautiful he thought she was.

“How’s that plan coming along?”

Buffy looked at him, then at their rapidly approaching opponents.

“They may be big and full of pointy objects but they can’t fly”

Spike concluded that she had finally lost her mind.

“I seem to have lost my ticket for that particular train of thought, luv. Care to elaborate.”

Buffy dropped her fists and grabbed his arm.

“Actions speak louder than words.”

Linking their hands again, she shoved him through the window.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Spike let his gaze wander from the road to the tiny figure next to him curled into a ball, asleep. Reaching across the seat, he brushed a curl off her forehead before returning his attention to the highway stretching out in front of him.

“Fly.” He snorted quietly.

He didn’t think their rapid descent to the pavement could have been called anything close to flying but it had done the job. A broken ankle for him and wrist for her but it was hell of a lot better than ending up as vacuum food. They had barley made it to the car before Jules goons had come running out of the building. Some clever driving was the only thing that had gotten them out the city alive. Peering up at the sky, Spike estimated they had less than an hour before sunrise. For the first time in years, Spike wished for his Desota instead of the corvette he had replaced it with. But the car with its nicely blackened
windows was long gone and he had no choice but to find a place to stay for the day. Slamming his fist down on the steering wheel, Spike faced the inevitable. There was only one place close enough to give them the shelter that was necessary.

Half an hour later, he was still grumbling. Shifting into a lower gear in deference to the approaching city limits, Spike controlled the urge to follow his old traditions. It would have woken Buffy up and he preferred her to sleep as long as possible. If the fates were smiling he might even be able to get her out of there before she even knew where they were.

Cause your plans always run like clockwork, mate

Wincing at the thought, Spike transferred his energy to glaring at the upcoming sign that had burned in his mind for over four years. Specifically, since he had last seen it fading from sight in his rearview mirror.

Welcome to Sunnydale