The Moron Thing?

For: hobbituk
Rating: R
Request: Other characters: Angel. Canon-based, Season 5. Spike gets to be first (or the winner) for a change

Response: Since I forgot to ask folks which show when I asked for a season, I decided here to use Angel Season 5. This little story takes place in the Girl in Question. Spike and Angel are in Rome. So is Buffy.

She heard him before she saw him. Nobody swore with quite the same enthusiasm and pleasure as he. Not to mention volume. Buffy froze in the middle of dancing, eyes scanning the club. This had happened before. Imagining he was somewhere he clearly was not. Even if he wasn’t a pile of ashes at the bottom of Sunnydale Crater, it still seemed pretty unlikely to run into him eight months later in Rome. The odds were astounding. And yet...

“Bloody fuckin’ hell! Get your paws off me before I break ‘em off!”

That is definitely Spike. Buffy shoves her dance partner out of the way and starts pushing through the crowd towards the sound of fighting. She sees a flash of platinum blond hair and her throat goes dry. But the crowd is thick tonight and she struggles to get closer without seriously hurting the people around her. By the time she reaches the spot she saw him, there is no evidence except for broken glass and bruised thugs. Buffy’s eyes snap to the front door and the sound of a car speeding off. There.

She bolts for the door just in time to see a moped turn the corner. Again, a glimpse of blond hair.

“He’s in Rome on a moped. With some guy? What the...?” Buffy stands outside the entrance, confused. When The Immortal comes up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders, she shrugs them off and walks off into the night. “Time to patrol.”

Hours later...

Buffy slams the door open to the building and foregoes the elevator so she can stomp up the stairs. She combed the city, looking for any sign of him. Nothing. The thought is back that she did honestly imagine it all. She frowns. This is no way to get over someone. Someone who is definitely gone. Gone, dust, very very dead...and at this very moment coming out of her apartment.

Buffy freezes in place, blinking her eyes rapidly. Her thoughts fly at nearly the same rate. He’s here. Angel is with him. That was Angel on the back of the moped? They are in Rome. Together. He’s alive. Or undead. Or something. But here. Right here.

At that moment, Spike and Angel both look up and see her standing there, words dying in their throats. Buffy’s eyes lock onto Spike’s, huge and questioning. Angel looks back and forth between them, brow furrowed. Nothing is said for a few seconds, so he clears his throat.

“Um, hello, Buffy. We were just...here to take care of some business. And thought we would stop by and...say hello. And...just on our way back to L.A. now. So, um, Spike’s here. I guess you saw that. He’s, well, he’s back is the thing...” He trails off, noticing that neither of the blonds in the hallway seem to be paying him any mind. He frowns, finally waves his hand between the two of them, breaking their line of sight. Spike and Buffy both jump, shaking their heads out of the trance. “Maybe we should take this back in the apartment? Guys?” Angel pushes the door all the way open and heads back in. Buffy doesn’t move.

Spike reaches over and pulls the door closed, keeping his hand on the doorknob. He smiles just a little at Buffy, as they hear the voice coming from inside the apartment.

“Spike? What are you doing? Get in here.” The doorknob starts to rattle in Spike’s hand, but he clenches tighter, the muscles in his arm straining. Finally, Buffy moves, darting to the door as she fumbles in her jacket pocket. She holds up the keys with a grin and jabs one in the deadbolt lock, giving it a quick turn.

“Locks from the outside. Great way to keep an eye on Andrew.” Angel’s voice gets louder inside. “We’ll be back, Angel! Help yourself to blood in the fridge!” With that, Buffy grabs Spike by the other hand and pulls him with her towards the elevator. As she hits the button, she hears Angel roaring in frustration through the door. “He’ll break it if he’s not careful.” She laughs a little as they hop into the elevator together. Buffy hits the ground floor button and turns to look at Spike, who is standing against the back wall, face torn between fear and joy. The elevator starts to descend. Buffy cocks her head at him, then reaches behind her and yanks the emergency stop, causing the elevator to shudder to a stop between the 2nd and 3rd floors.

Buffy frowns at him. “I wanted to talk to you without Angel around. I don’t understand.”

“’bout Angel? Well, he’s a real wanker, but as a boss, he...”

“About you.”

“It’s a long story.”

She crosses her arms across her chest and stands in front of him. “Try me.”

“I came back - in L.A. Right in front of Angel, actually. First, as a ghost and now as me. Still don’t know how or why.”

“Not such a long story, after all.”

“Guess not.” Spike fidgets a little, digging for a cigarette in his duster. “Dammit.”

Buffy squints at him. “That’s not your duster.”

“Um yeah. It got blown up, along with my smokes.”

“I just want to be clear that I am furious with you.”

Spike looks down. “I kind of figured you might be. And the longer I waited, the worse I thought it would get.”

Buffy swallows, her throat thickening. “But I also missed you.” Spike jerks his head up, sees her eyes are swimming in tears. “You big jerk.”

“Oh god, Buffy. I’m sorry. I’m a stupid, selfish git. I...was scared. Didn’t know if you would want to see me again.”

“And you decided to leave that decision up to...you?” Her eyes flash with anger now, the tears still there. “You died, almost in front of me. I told you I loved you. And this made you think I would never want to see you again?”

“I’m a moron, pet. Never been the big thinker, right? I was a...hero. Now, maybe I’m...”

“A hero? Still? Duh, Spike!” Buffy swings at him, punching him in the shoulder a bit harder than necessary. “When I came back from the dead, were you happy to see me?”

“Yes, love. It was the most - “

“Shut up. So, when you came back from the dead, you thought what? I wouldn’t care?” Buffy glares at Spike, quailing him with the fury and hurt blazing in her eyes.

Spike runs his hand through his hair, loosening the waves. His face is crushed, his shoulders slumped. Though still white hot with anger, Buffy feels herself soften. She realizes he may have been really scared. Still is.

Buffy takes a deep breath, calming herself somewhat. “Tell me. Why were you scared?”

“I was just...” Spike pauses, unsure what to say next. Staring at the floor, he sees Buffy’s hand come into view, taking his. His gaze runs up her hand, her arm and finally to her face.

“Tell me.” Her voice is soft, the anger gone almost as fast as it arose.

He licks his lips, his mouth gone dry. “If I never saw you again, I could pretend you still loved me. Okay? That was why. I knew you didn’t mean it, but I could fool myself longer if I ...” He stops talking again, eyes dropping away from hers. For a few seconds, neither says a word. Finally, Spike speaks again. “Listen, don’t say anything, pet. You don’t have to - “

“Just shut up. Right now. You. Are. A. Moron.”

“Hey, you don’t have to get - “

“Not done yet.” Spike looks back at Buffy again. “And despite your moron status, I meant it.” Spike frowns slightly. “I meant it. Did you hear me? I...I still mean it.”

“The moron thing, love?”

Growling in frustration, Buffy grabs him by the shoulders and plants a kiss directly on his lips. Spike, completely startled, raises his hands in surrender as she presses him against the wall. When he realizes she is not going to stop, he recovers in a hurry, hands on her hips, her waist, running up and down her back. The tender warmth of her mouth on his makes Spike’s borrowed blood start to rush through his veins. Buffy’s hands slide up to cup his face as the kiss deepens. Her tongue makes its way into his mouth, making him jump slightly in further surprise. The way her hot body is wriggling against his gives him the distinct impression she wants more than a kiss.

Finally, they break apart, gasping. Buffy keeps ahold of Spike, hands now on his upper arms, his on her waist.

“Ohh, you meant the loving me part?” Spike grins wickedly, his confidence decidedly boosted by the warm Slayer in his arms.

Buffy narrows her eyes at him. “And don’t doubt me again. I get very angry.” Spike’s grin fades as other thoughts creep back in.

“And...what about Angel?”

“I was thinking we’d keep this just between the two of us, Spike. I don’t share.”

“I mean, what about you and - “

“I know what you meant. But no. You.”

He smiles again before another dark look crosses his features. “And...The Immortal?”

“How do you know about - ? Anyway, no. He was...a substitute. Don’t worry, he’ll get over it. Tons of girls lining up for his attentions.”

“A substitute?”

Buffy smirks at him, one hand sliding through Spike’s hair. “Didn’t you hear? He dyed his hair platinum...”

The chuckle starts quiet, but soon turns into full out laughter until both of them are shaking in each other’s arms.