Retrace

Chapter 5 of “Connections”

By Chani

“Stop it, Will. I don’t need you to carry me, damn it!!” Rena demanded, slapping the vampire’s hands away from her as they reached Giles’ door. “I told you I’m fine. I’m not bloody helpless!!”

She had regained consciousness almost immediately after her collapse, but Spike had insisted on taking her back to Giles’ apartment. The watcher agreed but had stayed at the park, along with Buffy, Willow, Xander, and Cordelia, to dispose of the pieces of demon that were left and make one final sweep of the area to make sure all was well. The blonde vampire, heedless of the witch’s warnings to stop, had spent the entire trip trying to get her to let him carry her.

Spike shot her a deadly glare as he unlocked the door. “If you were fine, you wouldn’t have passed out, now would you?” He pushed the door open, then put his hand to her back to give her a not-so-gentle push inside.

“Oh bite me.”

He was tempted to do just that, but instead he closed the door behind him and snapped, “Go sit down.”

She spun around and poked him in the shoulder. “Look, puppy, either stop ordering me around or we’ll see just how weak I really am!!”

Whether intentional or not, her words brought a smile to Spike’s face. “Aww, kitten, you remembered.” At that he swept her up into his arms, walked to the couch and unceremoniously dumped her on it. “I’ll be right back, luv. Don’t go anywhere.” He saw the look on her face and knew she hadn’t realized what she had said to him…a direct quote from the last time they had seen each other…but, after his response, she undoubtedly realized it now. Like many of their other experiences together, it wasn’t something either of them would forget.

Uffizi Gallery, Florence, Italy – 1886

Spike stepped into the gallery, sighing. A nagging little voice told him he shouldn’t be there, he should go back to the place he temporarily called ‘home’. Back to Dru…and Angelus and Darla. He rolled his eyes at that thought. They were the reason he had gone out alone in the first place. Watching his girl snog…and most likely shag…his poofter sire was not exactly his idea of a fun evening. But, any time Darla left for more than a few hours, it happened. In turn, he learned to avoid it by leaving.

Usually he went to a pub and had a few…okay, more than a few…ales. For some reason, however, he had decided to go for a walk instead. In fact, he had walked all the way across town, as if something were drawing him there. When he had momentarily stopped in front of the art gallery and seen the soft glow of an oil lamp coming from inside, he realized what it was. Or, more accurately, who it was.

He moved stealthily through the gallery. The place was completely dark, save the soft light coming from the lamp, which made it easy to find her. Not that he needed it—or his vampire senses—to find her. When she was near, he could feel it, like some invisible force was pulling them together. It was basic…primal. A connection that could not be broken. Well, until now. Regardless of what brought him to her, he would take advantage of the opportunity to finally be free…of her, of the memories of her, and of who he used to be.

He stopped and leaned against the wall when he saw her. She was standing in front of a painting, absorbed in it. The lamp sat on the floor next to her—next to a large bag—barely lighting the large room. He took several steps, stopping when he was just a bit more than arm’s length from her. Shaking his head, he crossed his arms in front of him. She never had paid much attention to her surroundings, but something told him she felt him there. “Hello, kitten.”

“Hello Will,” she whispered softly, not turning around to face him yet.

Fear made her hesitate, he knew. He just wasn’t sure what she was afraid of. Soon she’d have plenty to fear, however. “The one and only, luv.”

Turning around seemed to be a chore for her, but somehow she managed a flirtatious smile. The only problem was he knew it was forced. She shook her head, wagging her finger at him. “Shame on you breaking into an art gallery when it is closed!”

“You’re one to talk, Kit-Kat,” he said, smiling back at her.

“How did you know…I was here?”

“Who else would sneak into an art gallery in the middle of the night.” It didn’t exactly answer her question, but it was all he was willing to give her at the moment. They stood for a few moments staring at each other, not saying a word. It seemed like ages since he had seen her, since she had run away and left him. And she was in for quite a surprise. “By the way,” he began, stepping closer to her and allowing his demonic features to come briefly to the fore, “I’ve changed my name…to Spike.”

“Spike?” She raised an eyebrow, showing no sign that she even noticed his ‘change’. “That sounds like a name someone would give a big, ugly dog! Where in the hell did you come up with that?”

“I worked hard for it, kitten.” He moved closer, standing toe-to-toe with her. Locking eyes with her, he morphed again. “Took quite a bit of effort torturing all those people with railroad spikes. I thought it was much more creative than simply draining their blood.” His human face slid back into place, but he was sorely disappointed when she failed to respond once again.

“Well, I still think the name is absurd, no matter how hard you tried to make it fit. You are more like a big fluffy puppy than a mean nasty dog anyway.”

“Puppy?” Irritation rose in him. “Perhaps you missed what I showed you a moment ago. I’ll be happy to show you again.”

“I didn’t miss it. Just because you’re a vampire doesn’t mean you frighten me, puppy.”

Realization hit him, and a smile formed on his face as he finally remembered the nickname she had given him so long ago. But that was the past. His smile grew sinister. “I’m not the same man I was when last you saw me,” he warned. “If you hadn’t run away, you would’ve found out sooner. Granted, you’d be dead now. Better late than never, though, right?” He grabbed her wrist and jerked her to him.

“I think I’ll pass, thank you very much.” That said, she broke from his grip.

Before he could grab her again, she raised her hand and he flew backwards, landing on the floor several feet from where he had begun. She barely made it across the large room before he tackled her, knocking her to the floor. “Shh, luv, this will only hurt a lot!” He flipped her onto her back and straddled her, forcing her arms under his knees.

He locked eyes with her, his face changing again. Something made him hesitate, something he didn’t want to face at that moment. Trying to quell the conflicting thoughts in his head, he kept moving closer, but when his face was mere inches from hers, he stopped. He couldn’t do it—couldn’t drain her, much less kill her—even though he knew she’d let him. In fact, she wanted it. He could see it in her eyes…the desire to end it all. His human face slipped back into place, and he knew she could see the pain in his eyes as he struggled with his decision. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, he shouldn’t have doubts about killing someone. A vampire didn’t have compassion, that was what Angelus had taught him. So why was he feeling the way he did? He sighed, knowing the answer to that question, but not wanting to admit it.

She smiled sympathetically, pulling her hands free so she could touch his face. “Will, I…”

“Shut up,” he growled. After a slight hesitation, his mouth covered hers. The kiss was forceful, passionate. He wasn’t surprised she responded immediately, threading her fingers into his hair to pull him closer. She tasted so good. Kissing and holding her felt right, but it was bringing back too many memories, some of which were not good. She had hurt him…and just thinking of it made him want to hurt her. Besides, now he had Dru.

As soon as he tore his mouth from hers, she protested, trying to pull him back to her. It was obvious she wanted more. “Will…what…?”

He looked deeply into her eyes and ran his thumb over her lips. “I should go,” he said, though he made no effort to move away from her. “I can’t do this to…” He drifted off, lost in his own thoughts.

“Drusilla,” she finished. He nodded, looking away briefly. “You love her?”

“Yes,” he said, nodding at her. “She needs me. No one ever needed me like that before.” He almost regretted his words when he saw the pain in her eyes. Regardless of what had happened with them, he could see she still cared for him. But the question was, how much did she care?

“I understand.” She pushed him away. “Get up, Will. You have to go.”

He reluctantly pulled himself off of her and stood up, grabbing her hand and pulling her up with him. He almost missed her soft whimper of pain. “What’s wrong, kitten?”

Her face softened when he used his pet name for her. “It’s my ankle,” she told him, lifting it off the floor. “I twisted it when you knocked me down, but it’s fine.” She started to walk away from him, to where her bag was, but her ankle gave way, causing her to hop on her other foot. Spike growled before taking a step toward her and sweeping her up in his arms. “What the bloody hell do you think you are doing? Put me down!!”

“You can’t very well go hopping around the street by yourself,” he told her grumpily. “We need to take care of that ankle. Where are you staying?”

She gave him a sheepish look. “I’m not. I just got here tonight and was—”

“And you’re alone, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“Save it. I can’t believe you’re still pulling crap like this! Traveling alone and wandering around by yourself in a strange city in the middle of the night with no plans on where you’ll be sleeping.” He shook his head, carrying her across the room. He set her gently on a long padded bench, then straightened, crossing his arms and giving her a reproving look. “We can’t very well stay here. Sun’ll be up in a few hours and this place’ll be open.” He scratched his head and sighed. “I know a guy who has a small flat in the basement of his bar…stays there when he’s had too much ale. Should be empty.”

“What about…I mean, don’t you have to get back to…?” Her face contorted as she tried to figure out how to end her question.

“No one’ll notice I’m gone.” It was true. Not much information, but true. Besides, she didn’t really need to know the details…and he definitely didn’t want to discuss them. “I’ll take your bag and be right back to get you. Stay here, off that ankle.” He was gone before she could offer any objections.

When he got back to the museum ten minutes later, Rena was nowhere in sight. A low growl started in his throat, but before he had a chance to yell her name, he heard her voice from the other section of the gallery.

“Will?”

He growled again, stomping toward her. When he found her standing on one foot in front of a painting, it took every ounce of self-control he had to stop himself from going to her and shaking her silly.

“I got bored and decided to…”

He snatched the lamp from her hands and set it on the floor before lifting her into his arms. “Which bloody part of ‘stay here’ did you not understand?” he bellowed.

“Put me down! I’m not a bloody invalid!!”

“You can’t even stand on your foot, you little fool! You’re so pig-headed…never admitting you need help…” He continued griping at her—and she kept arguing with him—until they reached their destination.

“Not bad,” she told him, glancing around the small flat. Actually, flat was a bit of a stretch considering it was just one big room. There was a small kitchen area with a table and chairs, an even smaller sitting area that consisted of a small settee and chair, and a large four-poster bed covered in a red velvet bedspread and surrounded by two small chests. “Does the—”

“You need to rest and stay off that ankle,” he interrupted, walking toward the bed. “You need to keep it up on a pillow so the swelling will go down. You’re too weak to—”

“Look, puppy, either stop ordering me around or we’ll see just how weak I really am!!” She poked him in the chest. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

He growled again and dropped her on the bed, towering over her. “I’m taking care of you tonight, like it or not. And I don’t want to hear one more word out of you kitten, or so help me you will regret it!”

“But—” She stopped short when he pounced on top of her, holding her hands at her sides. A devilish smile appeared on her face, and he knew she was about to do something to push him even further. “What about my poor injured ankle?”

“You’ll live,” he growled, bringing his mouth down on hers. When he felt her respond to his kiss, he released her hands, allowing them to snake up around his neck to pull him closer. He ignored her protest when he pulled his mouth away from hers and moved it to her neck, nipping gently at the delicate skin there.

She shivered and squirmed in his arms. “Will…please…”

She didn’t have to finish her sentence, because he knew exactly what she wanted. He raised his head and locked eyes with her, moving his mouth to hers at an agonizingly slow pace. Tension crackled between them, and when his lips finally touched hers the contact was so soft that it felt more like a breeze than a kiss. His tongue traced the outline of her lips several times before finally entering her mouth to kiss her the way she wanted him to…hard…deep. It was about possession, and he knew she could feel it, too. There was no denying it. She was his, always had been…always would be. He wasn’t sure how long he had been kissing her, but he paused, mumbling into her mouth, “God I’ve missed you, kitten.”

“I…” Her eyes locked on his, and it was obvious she was struggling for words. “I…” She took two heavy breaths, then put her hands around the back of his head, pulling him back for another kiss.

He groaned when he felt her tongue touch his, and he was glad she decided to show him how she felt instead of telling him. A tremor ran up his spine in response to the finger she ran gently up and down his back. He had almost forgotten how good it felt to have her in his arms…to kiss her. It was heaven and hell all rolled up into one little green-eyed package. If it weren’t for Angelus and Dru…guilt swept over him at the thought.

Regardless of Dru’s…obsession…with Angelus, he had remained faithful to her. Could he just throw that away for one night with Rena? He knew she must have sensed his thoughts, because she stiffened under him briefly, then relaxed, as if she were willing herself to do so. In spite of her reaction, he had no clue what her intentions were, and he wouldn’t throw away everything he had without talking to her first. There was so much they needed to discuss. Too much to ignore or sweep under a rug. Maybe after a good night’s sleep, they could figure out what to do next.

He grudgingly pulled his mouth from hers, closing his eyes and swallowing hard. When he looked at her again, he saw the unshed tears in her eyes. “You should rest.” Kissing her forehead softly, he rolled off of her onto his back. “We can—”

“G’nite, Will,” she interrupted, rolling to her side, facing away from him. He didn’t know how long he lay there waiting for her to go to sleep, but sheer emotional exhaustion drug him into unconsciousness while she was still awake. And when he woke up the next morning, she was gone.

Spike held out the cup of hot tea for Rena.

“Thanks, Will,” she told him, taking the tea and sipping it slowly.

“It’s been a long time,” he said, unsure of himself. He knew he had hurt her the last time they saw each another, he just wished she knew how much it had hurt him too. “We need to talk, luv. I think—”

He was interrupted when Buffy burst through the door, the others following behind, chattering away. Rena got up from the couch and greeted the others, but as soon as Cordelia stepped foot in the door, she asked her if she was ready to leave.

“Believe me, I am so ready to leave Sunnydale,” Cordelia told her. “But it’s really late. Giles said we could crash here for the night. I get the couch!”

Rena took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Fine,” she said, “but we’re leaving first thing in the morning.”

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