Now and Then

I can’t stand to fly I’m not that naïve

I’m just out to find The better part of me

I’m more than a bird…I’m more than a plane

More than some pretty face beside a train

It’s not easy to be me

Buffy traced a finger down the moisture on the living room window in Willow’s apartment. It was raining again….or still. Wrapping an arm tighter around her knees, she pressed her head against the cool surface. She had been sitting in this same chair for two days. The only change had been whether the blinds were open or closed.

She could hear them all milling around in the kitchen. The quiet clicking of computer keys assured her that Willow was still
knee deep in the quest The sound calmed her somewhat. Buffy had briefly considered going in there, being part of the group, but it was really too late for that. It was too late when Xander had arrived and demanded she be tied up.
It had taken Willow, Tara and Anya combined to hold her back. Alone was better. Away from Anya’s forthright questions, Xander’s snide remarks, Tara’s sympathetic looks and Willow’s guilt. The old phrase about walking a mile in
someone else’s shoes had been fluttering around her head for hours.

This is what it was like for Spike

Spike. This one-way road to destruction she was traveling could all be traced back to Spike. Maybe if she had given in
to…..love? What if she hadn’t let him go? Maybe she wouldn’t have spent so long trying to replace him. What if………


“I brought you something to eat.”

Buffy raised a blank gaze from the window and stared at the cup floating in front of her face. Well, not floating really, there fingers were wrapped around it. Nice, strong, reliable fingers. Reaching out, Buffy took the wrist that held the cup instead. She felt a shiver work its way down the fingers she was studying. She had the feeling if she so much as raised an
eyebrow the wrong way, the body attached would jump out the window. Dropping the hand on a sigh, Buffy took the cup and glanced up at the face holding it.

“Thanks”, she mumbled.

Tara sat down on the stool in front of her and knitted her fingers on her lap.

“How are you doing?”


Buffy didn’t answer, just raised the drink to her mouth and watched Tara’s eyes as she drained the contents. Waiting for the
expected look of disgust at the sight of a former Slayer drinking blood, a small sliver of something akin to victory ran through her when it was noticeably absent. Buffy slowly lowered the cup and set it on the end table. Leaning forward, she reached again for Tara’s hand and was relieved when the witch laced their fingers together with no hesitation. As much as she hated to admit it, Buffy was desperate for contact with someone. She was just no good at being alone.

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

Wish that I could cry Fall upon my knees

Find a way to lie About a home I’ll never see

It may sound absurd…but don’t be naive

Even Heroes have the right to bleed



Spike tried again to get his lighter to ignite. Tapping it against his leg, he shook it a bit and pushed at the flint…..
Nothing, no spark, no flame, no nothing. Glaring into the cold silence of a four by four cell , he smashed his head back against the stone wall he was slumped against.

Should have figured someone like Jules would have his own personal dungeon. Must up the market value a bit.

“Here”


Spike stared as a slight flame sprang up in his line of vision. Leaning forward slightly, he lit his cigarette and blew out the
match. For a moment, all he did was watch the glow of the burning tip. It was a small comfort gesture he had always relied on. A good distraction, that. Anything was better than having to acknowledge that he wasn’t alone here.
Inhaling deeply, he caught her scent mingled with the acrid smoke and knew the time for denial had passed.

“Since when do you carry matches?” he asked the pale white face that had come to crouch in front of him.

“Always did. It’s in the Surviving the Hellmouth handbook.” Came the flippant answer which would have sounded better if the
voice behind it didn’t tremble so bad.

“Handy thing, book like that. Come with a passage on getting our asses out of here?”


Dawn ignored the question and eased down to the cement. Pulling her knees against her chest, she rested her chin on them and fixed him with an intent gaze. Spike stared past her. He couldn’t watch the fear on her face anymore.

“She’ll come, you know.”


Spike kept his gaze fixed on a drop of water slipping down the wall above her head. “I know, come blazing in with some snappy little remark and next to no clothing on. Just like old times. I tell you though ,another hour and I’m docking points.”

“She doesn’t do that anymore.”


“Well,t’s t’s a pity. I liked those little ‘almost a skirt’ numbers. I always meant to ask where she put the stakes though. Never could figure out where she hid them all and, trust me, I looked.”


“That’s not what I meant. The comebacks and stuff, she doesn’t do that. She just slays now.”


“Well, that’s not right. What’s a good Buffy slay without the witty commentary. That was my favorite part.”


“She stopped after…..” Dawn’s voice trailed off and Spike was forced to look at her.

“After what?”


“After there was no one left to hear it but the things she killed.”


Spike completely mistook the implications of statement. He was too far engrossed in another mental round of death to
all Scoobies. “What, did they vote or something? Was she having too much fun? No more jokes in the workplace?”

Dawn’s voice took a stronger tone in defense of her family. “They didn’t know. She made them stop coming with her, said it was too distracting or something.”


“What do you mean, told them to stop coming? They wouldn’t let her out of their bloody sight. I’m surprised the whelp didn’t just surgically attach himself to her ass.”

Dawn jumped to her feet and treated Spike to a full helping of her new and improved ‘young adult’ temper. “You have no idea
what you’re talking about. You weren’t here. Buffy changed after you left. She just gave up. It wasn’t our fault. She shut us out.”


“Then why did you call me to save her?”


“I thought that…..I hoped without the pressure……without all of us, she could be happy. It destroyed her, Spike. Us. This. It all destroyed her.”


“No, bit. Look at me. You didn’t do that. As much as I’d like to blame them, that lot didn’t either. Buffy did that to herself.
It’s up to her to fix it.”


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


I may be disturbed…but
won’t you conceed

Even Heroes have the right to dream,

It’s not easy to be me

Up, up and away…away from me

It’s alght…ght…You can all sleep sound

I’m not crazy…or anything…




“I don’t know how I am.”

Buffy was staring at Tara’s hand and fought the urge to cry again when she felt a slight, reassuring squeeze.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. Yes. Maybe. I screwed up. Not with the ‘getting turned’ thing. I mean, eventually I’m sure that
would have happened anyway, or I would have died again, or….. Anyway that’s not the point. The point is, I messed up. Have you ever turned your back on something that you knew deep inside was right, but you ran away because were too scared?”

“I..I’m not sure. I guess we all have.”

“No. I mean, like, really turned your back. Like, you hurt someone so bad that you realize you can’t ever fix that
kind of pain.”


“Are we talking about Spike”

“Yes. No. It started with Spike, I guess. It was easy to do that, you know. It was easy to say Spike is evil tforefore I can’t love him. Just tuck it away in a box and that’s the end. It doesn’t hurt that way and you can just go on with your life knowing how right you were. But then something else comes along which might hurt, so you put that away too. Until pretty soon everything that might hurt and everyone you might love is all tucked away nice and neat where they can’t get you. But you see you can’t get to them either.”

“Are you trying to say Spike and all of us are in a box somewhere.’


“I know it sounds stupid, but yes. The really hard part is……sometimes the box gets too full and things slip out. You end up doing things you shouldn’t do, trying to shove it all back in.”


Tara reached up and touched Buffy’s neck lightly. “This?”

Buffy stared into Tara’s eyes. “The box broke”


“I found it”

Buffy and Tara both turned to look at Willow. Neither of them had noticed her enter the room, judging from the fresh tears in her eyes, it had been a while. Buffy stood slowly and walked towards her. “You found them?”

“I think so… and….” Buffy felt herself being pulled into Willows arms. She couldn’t control the tremor that racked her when
Willow whispered “I’m sorry.”

There were a million things Buffy wanted to say and do in that moment. Most of it centered around it not being Willow’s fault. Anyone’s fault really. But all Buffy could do was hold her and cry. There was time to fix a broken friendship later, she hoped. For the first time in a long time…..she hoped.

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


I can’t stand to fly I’m not that naive

Men weren’t meant to ride With clouds between their knees

I’m only a man in a silly red sheet

Digging for kryptonite on this one way street

Looking for special thing inside of me..... It’s not easy to
be me.



“….dying. You know when it happens, that last second…what does it feel like?”

Spike cursed softly under his breath and stubbed out his smoke. Glaring at Dawn, he fixed her with his best “I’m older,
therefore I know more” look.

“You’re not going to die, pet. She’ll be here. Just like always.”


Dawn wasn’t buying it. “It’s been two days, Spike, a little reality check may be in order here.”

“Reality’s overrated. Sides’, you’re the one who said she was coming in the first place.” Spike had an overwhelming urge to add a “HA” at the end of that, but he was pretty sure it would wreck his entire air of superiority.


“I’m just saying……in case….I’d like to be prepared.”

“There will be no preparing!”

Dawn giggled. “You sound exactly like Giles.”

“Yah, well….we’re English, bound to be some similarities.

Dawn smothered a giggle behind her hand and slid down next to him, both taking comfort from the presence of the other. If either of them were being completely honest, they would both have admitted that the chances of Buffy coming for them were dwindling by the hour. If either of them were being honest, they may have acknowledged that neither fully believed
the ‘new Buffy’ had it in her anymore. Fortunately or unfortunately, it was yet to be seen, honesty and survival did not generally reside in the same space and both Dawn and Spike were siding with the latter.

“Do you know what the first thing she said to me when she woke up was?”


Dawn looked up from the intent study she was performing on her cuticles. She took the cue that it was time to change the
subject.

“Let me see, the first thing Buffy said..……what did you do this time?”

Spike grinned. “Okay, after that.”

Dawn tucked her head under his arm and curled her body against him. “What did she say after?”

“That you were going to kick my ass for making her late.”

Dawn laughed softly, the mood was lightened, and they lapsed into silence for awhile.

“It’s hard, isn’t it?’

Spike craned his neck to see the top of her head. “What’s that?”

“Trying not to love her.”

“Yes bit…it’s bloody near impossible.”

“How long?”

Spike thought about how to answer for a minute. He knew what she was asking. It was the same question that had been hanging between them since Jules had thrown them in the cell. How long was it going to take before he lost that last precious amount of control and took what he needed to survive? Another day? Another hour? It all came down to Buffy now.

Spike pulled her closer and buried his face in her hair.

“Forever, pet.”