DeCrypted & ReCrypted
“Hey, Joe, it was over here, wasn’t it?” The workman motioned his comrade towards the crypt facade. “I don’t see anything.”
The other man looked around the area. “We got three separate reports from houses near the cemetery. Some kind of explosion.”
“I know, but I don’t see anything.” He looked on the ground. “Except all these cigarette butts by the door. Hey, you don’t think we’ve got another squatter, do you?
“One way to find out. Open the door.”
“Why is it always me?” He pushed the crypt door open, stepped inside, and whistled softly. “Hey, lookie here. All the statues. And there’s even a TV, and a fridge.”
“Uh, Sam,” the other said following, “that’s not all there is.” He pointed to the sleeping body on the sarcophagus top. “Looks like another vampire.”
“Yup.” He studied the silent sleeper. “He’s been settled here for awhile. Look, pillows, comforter, everything. Well, looks like his stay is over. Hand me a stake, Joe?”
“Sure thing. Hey, another one bites the dust, eh?”
“Good one.” He headed toward the door. “I love that sound they make. Lets get the truck and haul this stuff out of here.”
Buffy couldn’t wait any longer. To hell with what was right. She loved him, and she knew it.
“Spike,” she called, stepping through the crypt door. “We need to talk.” She stared in disbelief at the empty crypt.
“He left. I can’t believe he left.”
Buffy looked around the empty crypt. “I can’t believe he left,” she muttered over and over. “I mean, I know I dumped him, I know I treated him like dirt. I know I blew up his bedroom. But I thought he’d love me no matter what. Isn’t that what he said? Is that what he said?”
A man in overalls stepped through the door. “Listen miss,” he said. “It’s getting late, and you should be heading home. The cemetery’s no place for a nice girl after dark. Lots of, ah, muggers.”
She turned to face the man. He had his name encrested with the cemetery logo on his shirt. “I know what you’re talking about, Joe. You don’t have to worry about me.” She pulled a stake from her coat pocket.
“Ah, good. Most people just shake their heads and think you’re nutty when you talk about vamps.” He led her out of the crypt. “Matter of fact, we staked one here this morning.”
“What!”
“Yeah, found him lying around like he owned the place. Dusted him and dragged out his stuff. Had some pretty decent things, too. I got the TV.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Hey, miss, what’s wrong?”
Buffy was retching. She took great gasps of air, then fell on all fours and vomited on the grass. She was racked with sobs.
“Listen, can I get you home? If you’re sick…”
Buffy pulled away from the well meaning man and ran, staggering, towards the safety of home.
She burst through the front door and ran up the stairs, sobbing the whole time. She threw herself on her bed and buried her face in the pillow.
Dawn called to her from her bedroom door. “Buffy, are you okay. What’s wrong?”
“Go away, Dawn. I can’t talk, not now.”
“Geez, Buffy, you’re scaring me.” She walked in and sat on the edge of the bed. “Tell me what’s wrong, right now. God, I thought Spike was going to have a heart attack when he saw you, all teary.”
The words sank in. “Spike? Spike’s here?” She sat up in the bed and grabbed Dawn by her shirtfront. “Spike’s here?”
“Yeah, he’s downstairs. What…?”
Buffy ran down the stairs so fast that she tripped, and landed in the waiting vampire’s arms. She was still crying, with tears of joy.
“Buffy,” he asked, “what the bloody hell’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she replied, covering his face with kisses. “Nothing, ever again. As long as you’re here.”
“You do run hot and cold, Slayer, I’ll give you that.” His voice was silenced by her lips on his. He pulled away, reluctantly, and cradled her face in his hands. “I just came over to ask for some help. Someone’s nicked all my stuff. If I’d known the reception I’d get, I’d a come over sooner.”
“He said you were dead. Said he’d dusted you. While you were asleep.”
“Who said?” Realization dawned, and his face fell. “Aw, so that’s where old Mike went. And here I was blaming him for takin’ my things.”
“Mike?”
“Old chum. I was puttin’ him up for a few days. Bollocks. And he owed me money.” He looked deep into her eyes. “You seem awfully sad about thinkin’ it was me.”
“I never want to lose you. Ever. It would kill me.” She touched his face, as if she believed it would disappear. “You’re moving in here, with us.”
“What’r you sayin’, pet?” he asked softly.
“I’m saying I love you.”
He swept her into his arms with a whoop of joy. Dawn watched smiling from he perch at the top of the stairs. “Maybe my sister isn’t as lame as I thought.”