The Back Porch
Part Two
Buffy sat
on the back porch and leaned against the banister. She closed her eyes and let
her head sag back against the pillar. She couldn’t remember if she’d ever been
this tired. She felt sticky and smelled of stale sweat. In a little while she’d
go down to the Y for a shower. Or, the hell with it, she’d wait until tomorrow.
It wasn’t as if anyone was going to be bothered. At least the packing was done.
A tiny noise, a whisper of air alerted her. The faintest hint of tobacco. She
was too exhausted to be startled. “Have you come to kill me?” she said without
opening her eyes. It was about par for the week, if he had.
She heard the creak of a boot settling on the bottom step, and looked up. He
stood over her, his black duster hanging open off his shoulders. She hadn’t
expected ever to see it again. Ever to see him. Just at present she had no
resources to feel anything about his appearance. Fear, anger, pleasure; they
were alike submerged under the shocks of the past weeks, and her present
exhaustion. He looked different somehow. She was too tired to put her finger on
it. “Or are you just passing through?” she continued when he didn’t speak.
He looked down at her, his expression was unreadable in the darkness. “What
happened here?” he said at last.
His voice was a shock to her. So familiar, so intimate. A reminder, God help
her, of a happier time, though she certainly hadn’t known it then. Three weeks
ago. A lifetime. She blinked to stem a blur of tears. “A lot,” she said. “All
at once really.”
“Where’s Dawn?” he asked, looking towards the house. All the lights were off.
“Asleep? It’s early.”
Buffy closed her eyes again. “With her dad in LA,” she said. “Social Services
put her in foster care for a couple of days, but he showed up in the end and
took over.”
“What happened?” he said again. “Thought you and Red were managing okay.
Better.”
Buffy said nothing, relaxing against the pillar again, head leaning comfortably
on the wood. It was pleasant to just sit for five minutes, before the next
disaster struck. Maybe this was the next disaster. He hadn’t killed her yet, at
least.
“Buffy?” he prodded quietly, and sat down on the second step, across from her.
She sighed. “The bank foreclosed,” she said baldly. “Social Services took Dawn
away because I had nowhere to keep her.”
“I’m sorry.” They sat quietly in the warm night. After a moment he spoke again.
“Couldn’t she stay with Tara, while you found somewhere to live?”
“You don’t know.” Buffy looked at him. “No, you were already gone.” There was
no way to whitewash it. “Tara was killed,” she said.
He looked shocked. She wondered when she’d ever seen him speechless before now.
Finally he found his voice. “Tell me everything,” he said.
She closed her eyes again. It was easier to talk without looking at him. “The
three guys from high school who had been giving me trouble - the ones who
turned me invisible? They killed Tara. Maybe it was an accident. Willow, uh,
she fell off the wagon. She must have known some pretty dark stuff. She killed
the leader. Warren. I think the others too. I haven’t seen them since. She’s,
uh, she hasn’t come back. I mean, to herself. She’s around. She’s - I think
she’s possessed. Like whatever she used to kill them owns her now.
“Xander went after her, trying to talk her down or something. He thinks she’s
the same Willow he knew. I haven’t seen him since either.
“Then the next day the bank foreclosed. But I wanted to get Dawn away from here
anyway, and she wouldn’t have left without Social Services. So just as well. I
think - Willow thinks Dawn is a big source of power. I don’t want her anywhere
near Dawn.”
She heard nothing from him for so long she opened her eyes again, wondering if
she would find him gone. He sat staring out into the night, his head turned
away from her. She could see his profile dimly in the light from the street. I
never saw how beautiful he was, she thought. All those months, and I never once
saw.
Eventually he turned back to her. That familiar incline of the head. It felt as
if he’d never been away. “I should have been here”, he said.
She’d thought the same thing, a hundred times, more. But he’d have every reason
to leave. None to come back, in fact. She wondered why he had. She could hear
the note of guilt in his voice. “I’m not sure what you could have done,” she
said. “They killed Tara out of the blue. After that nothing could have stopped
Willow.”
He was silent again. “Wanted to apologize,” he said unexpectedly. “That last
time I saw you, I never thought - I should have realized. I should never have -
“ he stopped, and took a breath to start again.
“I knew you’d misunderstood,” said Buffy. “The way you felt when you realized I
meant it. It was written all over you.” She took a breath. “It’s okay. I’d
never - I mean I said no a lot before and didn’t mean it.”
“I should
have known this was different.” He looked at her. “You looked so scared. I
never wanted you to feel - I would never do that, Buffy. I never will.”
She nodded and he looked away from her again. He sat with his hands hanging
idle between his legs, fingers lightly clasped. “All I came here to say,” he
said. “I was really just here to clear a few things out of my crypt.” He
glanced at her and seemed faintly uncertain. “Have you got any help at all?” he
added. “Where’s Anya?”
Of course he would ask after Anya. Buffy couldn’t suppress the sharp intake of
breath, but avoided reacting otherwise. “Not sure,” she said. “She may have
taken off after Xander. I think her feelings are kind of conflicted. Doesn’t
want anyone to kill him but her.”
She saw the white of Spike’s teeth gleam in a brief smile. “Know that feeling,”
he said. Buffy felt oddly comforted. She said nothing more and after a moment
he asked, “so what are your plans?”
She sighed and closed her eyes again. “Well, when the Y opens tomorrow I’m
going to go and take a shower,” she said. “And change my clothes. Then the
movers are coming. After that I guess I go after Willow.”
“And do what?” Spike asked.
Buffy shook her head. “I don’t know. Try to talk her down. Uh. If I have to I
guess I’ll k-ki -” she couldn’t finish the word.
“So you’ve got no real plan,” said Spike. “Might be a good idea to get one
before you go running off half-cocked to meet your former best friend gone
dark. She’s powerful, too, Slayer.” Slayer. We’re back to business, now, Buffy
thought. He fell silent for a moment, then added, as if he had come to a
decision, “you need some backup.”
Buffy looked at him. “Thought you were just passing through.”
“I can delay a few days.” She took a breath, and before she could speak he
added, “call it a favour to an old friend.”
“You don’t owe me any favors, Spike,” she said sadly.
“So long as we both know that.” He stood. “Why shower at the Y?”
“Water’s been cut off. And the power.”
He looked around him. “You sure you’re safe here? With Red on the loose.”
She shrugged. “She can probably find me wherever I go, if she wants. She’s -
you’re right, she’s powerful now.”
“Still wouldn’t hurt not to be in the first place she’d look. Get a hotel room.”
“Money,” Buffy said.
He looked at her. “I have money.”
She shook her head. “I can’t, Spike, I - thanks, but - “
“Slayer. You’re exhausted. You’re stressed. You’re staying in a dark empty
house where a crazed sorceress knows exactly where to find you. Don’t be a
bloody idiot. You can pay me back.” She hesitated and he added “plus, not that
I want to add to your problems, you reek. I’d take that shower before Public
Health shows up too. And did I mention that you look like hell? You desperately
need a decent night’s sleep if you’re going to be any use tomorrow.”
She couldn’t help it and smiled up at him. “You do know how to make a girl feel
special.” She stood and began to turn towards the house. “I’ll need a
toothbrush.”
“Buy one. I’ll add it to the tab.”
She frowned. “What’s the rush?”
Spike looked around him. “Not sure. Bad feeling. Let’s just go.”
She shrugged and followed him across the lawn. “Okay, but I’m particular about
my toothbrushes.”
“Go wild. You’re paying for it.”
They were halfway across the graveyard, heading into town, when the explosion
lit up the night behind them. They turned in time to see the house engulfed in
a blazing fireball. “Mom’s house!” Buffy said, stupefied. “All Mom’s stuff!”
She began to run back, and Spike grabbed her and held her, weeping, against
him. “But - all Mom’s stuff,” she said, over and over. “It was Mom’s.”
“It’s gone, Slayer,” he said. “She’s gone.” He waited until she stopped
resisting before he released her. She stood and watched the house burn, tears
streaming down her face. “We’d better go,” he said at last, gently. “She’ll be
looking for you. Want to make sure she got you. You don’t want her to find you
here.”
At last Buffy nodded numbly and followed him into the shadows. They passed the
rest of the walk in silence. She stood beside him passively at the front desk
as he got her a room in his hotel, then walked her to her door and put the key
in the lock for her when she seemed still too shocked to know what to do with
it.
She turned to him after he opened the door and held it for her. “Willow,” she
said, and swallowed. “She was my best friend.”
Spike said nothing. She looked up at him. “You saved my life.”
“Don’t get all weepy on me, Slayer. It was an accident.”
Her eyes stayed on him. She looked as if she was trying hard to understand
something. “Thanks,” she said finally.
He nodded. “Get a good night’s rest, you’ll need it,” was all he said. She
nodded uncertainly and turned to go into the room. “I’ll see you at breakfast,”
he added, and watched until the door latched behind her. He stood a moment
longer until he heard her put up the chain.
“You never listen, Slayer,” he murmured, turning away. “Told you I’ve got your
back.”