first_summers | Riverview >> Inbox

Sounds complicated. Then you've got to deal with rent and mortgages and stupid things that are the only things being dead's good for in that you can get out of them. Seemed like more trouble than it's worth when I've always been able to find a hole in the ground.

You lived with me for a while.

[ Whether she'd actually planned on telling him that is unknown even to Buffy herself, but there it was, kitten out of the bag for everyone to see. Hear. Whatever. She scrambles to correct what she's said, not wanting there to be any misinterpretations. Those tend to happen when she speaks, after all. ]

At my house. In the basement.

That so?

[There was a little heat in those words, a little anger creeping in as he pictured what that would have looked like for him. Pathetic little worm that he was, living in her basement just to be close to her.]

Must have been dreadful for you.

[ The look she gives him is full of confusion and it takes her a second to put together what he must be thinking. Whatever it is, it's not at all how it really was. ]

What? Spike, that's not-- It was after you for your soul. The First was messing with you and... you needed help.

So you kept me in the basement? Down there with all the rest of your junk, yeah?

[Angel was good enough for her bed. So was Riley. So why not him?]

It wasn't like that. We had to chain you up, you were worried you'd hurt someone.

[ And in the beginning she wouldn't have wanted to share her bed with him. At the end-- ]

And eventually there just wasn't room anywhere else. We had a couple dozen teenage girls invade and you probably got more sleep than anyone else in the house.

[He wanted to still be bitter, to stay mad at her because being mad at Buffy was something familiar to him. Hating her was like an old shirt that fit just right. But He'd changed. Grown. Shifted. Now that shirt didn't fit as well as it used to and there were other factors, other feelings making it... chafe. He huffed out a sigh, then shook his head, glancing at her from the side.]

Almost sounds kinky.

[ She can't help the little sigh of relief that escapes when he seems to lose or simply let go of that anger. It's so easy to slip back into those old ways, even after all she'd been through with him, so she's grateful that he doesn't push things (push her, really) into places they couldn't come back from. That spark of hope hasn't sputtered out yet -- they might still make it through their first date without one of them stomping off in a state of fury. ]

I'm pretty sure that's what Faith said, too.

[ She smiles gently with a hint of amusement and neither confirms nor denies anything that might have gone on down in that basement. ]

Faith, eh? Isn't she locked up somewhere? Or does the end of the world negate prison?

[Not that he was really all that surprised. Living on the Hellmouth sort of... skewed one's perspective towards accepting all sorts of things that otherwise might not ever happen.]

[ Buffy opens her mouth to answer, closes it, then tries again after a moment, looking almost a bit... uncomfortable with the subject. If that was the right word for it. ]

She broke out to help Angel. He'd lost his soul and she went to LA to help the others stop him. After that, she came back to Sunnydale, just in time for the apocalypse.

So... your ex and the other Slayer getting cozy? That's... well.

[That had to sting. His own dislike of Angel might color his view, but he wasn't completely blind.]

Just one of many things I try not to think about.

[ She tries not to let on just how much it does sting. All of it. Everything to do with Faith, with the Scoobies, with Dawn... Everything from the last few months gets buried down deep to be dealt with never. ]

[He stopped walking, turning to look at her instead.]

You always do that, you know. Make it out like you deserve to get shat on by everyone in your life. I used to think it was hilarious. Now it just... well, it pisses me off.

[ That... isn't what she'd been expecting. It's been too long since she had him at her side, his influence has faded and it's gotten harder for her to remember the things he'd tried to show her about herself. She stares at him for a moment, her expression an unguarded display of trying and failing to be strong and let those words just wash over her. Instead, they settle in and unearth that top level of pain that aches more than all the rest. ]

If I don't deserve it, then why do people keep doing it?

[ It's a genuine question. Why? Why had the people she'd trusted most in the world turned against her? Why did everyone always leave her behind if it's not her fault? ]

Because people are idiots. Because you let them. Because it's going to take losing you for them to figure out what they're missing and how they've mucked it up. That's the thing with people, love. They always think people can do better. Can be better. They don't realize how hard it can be just to get out of bed in the morning when you've got nothing left.

[ But they had lost her. She'd been dead for months and when they'd gotten her back none of them had been able to comprehend how hard it was for her. They'd expected her to be the same old Buffy, for everything to go back to the way it was before. And then they'd chosen to shut her out, to cast her aside because they didn't need her anymore. When all she'd done was try-- ]

I don't want to talk about this.

[ It's more a quiet rush of air than actual words, breathed out as she turned and continued in the direction they'd been going, trying to put physical distance between herself and the subject. Because it hurts to be comforted. As much as she wants to have someone on her side, it kills her inside because she's not used to it. For so long, she's had to be the stone pillar at the center of her group, and now she's alone and cracked in the middle and it hurts for him to see that. ]

Hey, you started it.

[He took off after her, catching up and lengthening his strides to match her pace. He gestured when they were coming to a corner for her to turn right.]

Place is just down here.

[ She nods at the information, turning when needed, but she stays quiet for a little longer. Just a few moments, and then, quietly, she apologizes. Because he deserves it. ]

I'm sorry.

Don't be. I'm... I pry. It's what I do. Learn all your weaknesses. All theirs. I'm just not used to caring about them.

[He shrugged, still walking.]

Not used to talking to you about any of this. Kind of expecting to muck it up.

[ But he does care now. That's something. Pulling in a deep breath, she shakes her head and offers him a small smile. ]

It's okay. That's kind of what we both do. Mess up the good things in our lives because we don't expect them to last.

Seems like a rather shite way to live.

[He would know, after all. He'd been un-alive for long enough.]

It really is.

[ But it's a cycle they've both been trapped in for so long. She hopes they find their way out of it, but... things like that are never easy. ]

So why do we keep wind up doing the things that hurt us the most, eh?

[ She's quiet for a moment, contemplative, and then she shrugs. ]

I wish I knew. Maybe then we could fix it.

Can't have that. We might wind up actually being healthy or some nonsense.

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