Buffy The Vampire Slayer Fan Fiction ❯ Come, Come Again ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

Yes, this is the sequel to Come, Come, Come. No, you don't have to have read it to get this. Basically in Dirty Girls the scene with the innuendo of Faith and Spike was changed to a sex scene with S/F/X. Yes, an orgy. Faith's parting shot was: "You know, you two look cute like that. You might want to try that-what do you Brits call it? Buggering?" No, Spike and Xander did not have sex that night.

Right afterwards, the gang leaves for the vineyard and Xander gets his eye poked out by Caleb, nice man that he is. The following is set in Touched and will be spoilers throughout. While Joss had to end quickly, I do not. Expect anything from me, and strap in for a ride through season seven and possible going on to season eight, per your reviews. X/S, with hints of S/F/X and all the other canon pairings…. NC-17

Prologue

Xander stood there, looking with one eye at the place where Spike had been. He'd just-done all that, said all that, after- But no, that time in the basement, with Faith and-it was just a fluke. A case of hormones gone wild. Faith obviously hadn't been getting anything at jail-and he so didn't want to think of that-and he himself had just had a dream, in normal male style, in which all the potential slayers were virgins and bisexual.

Now he stared at the others, who were as silent as he. Faith just stared at the place where she had slammed Spike down; the others were carefully looking anywhere but at each other, afraid of seeing the same guilt and accusation as Spike had proclaimed.

Xander's brown eyes remained fixed on the door that Spike had stormed out of. He was going to find her…. And for some reason, it was that very last thing that disturbed Xander the most.

Surely they weren't 'ungrateful traitors'. They hadn't abandoned Buffy; she'd abandoned them.

Xander fingered his eye-patch and slowly moved away from the others. He walked into the kitchen, reaching into the fridge and pulling out a jug of orange juice. He felt himself numbly going through the motions of getting a glass out of the cabinet and pouring himself a drink. Setting the empty juice container back in the fridge, he downed the glass and set it back on the counter.

Oh look, his hand was shaking.

A sudden touch on his shoulder made him jerk up and away from Faith, who was standing behind him with furrowed brows. "Hey. You okay?"

Both of Xander's eyebrows rose, and a smile slipped easily onto his face. "You mean other than the fact that I'm blind in one eye and Spike-Spike just accused us-"

The hand came back, squeezed his shoulder, and retracted again. "Don't worry about that. We did what we had to do." There was a silence; an uncomfortable one that probably stemmed all the way from their first sexual encounter, never mind the second. "Listen, we're all going down to question the Bringer. You coming?"

Xander nodded silently and followed the Slayer who was now leader. They had to focus on the First. Relationships could be mended afterwards.

~&~

It was after the battle-or rather, the trap underground. After the girls were brought back to be mended and fixed…. After Faith had been quartered upstairs. After he had refused to leave for the final fight, refused to take Buffy's sister away.

He could still remember that conversation:

"You got it?"

Xander stood there, trying to take in what had been said. "Wait. I'm not to the 'got it' place yet. I'm still in the neighborhood of 'you've gotta be kidding'.

Buffy sighed, placing her hands on the countertop that separated them. "You know it's for the good."

Shaking his head slightly, a frown creased Xander's face. He just couldn't believe she was asking this of him. Didn't she understand? Spike had-he'd basically called Xander a coward. And what if he was right? "I don't. Buffy, do you get that? If I do this, that's it for me for this fight. I feel like you're putting me out to pasture."

Buffy was quick to answer. Yet, it was not her he saw before him. He saw those blue eyes, sharp and accusing. "Of course I'm not putting you out to pasture." She shook her head, bemused. "What does that even mean?"

He needed those eyes out of his head, so he was grateful for the tangent. "Well, you know, it's like, uh... when a cow gets old and loses an eye, or its ability to be milked, the farmer takes it and puts it in a different pasture so it won't have to... fight...with the priests." He chuckled; then went serious again. "Look, I don't need you to protect me."

She answered seriously, wondering if he actually was listening to her. "I'm not."

Continuing, he did not let her determination deter him. He needed to do this. Didn't she see? Didn't she understand? He needed-to make up for it. 'Ungrateful traitors.' "I got hurt, but I'm not done. I can still fight" She looked unconvinced, her mouth opened to let out a argument that he knew he would not win against, and he pushed on. He needed to do this. And he was sorry, but he was going to damn well do it! "I-Buffy I need to do this. I'm sorry. But you know she won't go. We both feel this way. We both feel-normal. And we both need to do this. Let us…."

She stared at him for a long moment, taking in the words that he had wanted to say for so long, since he'd been nothing but the Zeppo, the Donut Boy. But still, he'd proved himself time and time again. Proved his strength, his will and heart. Caleb may have blinded him, but he could still see.

She nodded finally. "Okay."

So, it was after that. It was after Xander had paced the floor with Spike's words ringing in his ears. That look that blue eyes shot him from across the room. As if it was his fault that this had all happened; that the girls were injured, that Faith had almost been killed.

But it wasn't his fault, was it? Was it?

But still, Spike's words rang true. Buffy had come in the nick of time, saved all the girls with some strange weapon she had found. They had come home, patched them up, and now Xander stared up at the ceiling from his bed, those same words ringing through his head over and over and over-

He gave a grunt as he sat up, fingers tapping over his eye-patch. It had become a nervous habit now, fingering the cloth that covered what would never be of his eye. He was still adjusting to the fact that he had one eye, still suffering minor bouts of nausea and dizziness that the doctors said would go away with time.

They didn't have time. Relationships-didn't have time.

Coming to a decision, Xander stood, slowly so as to adjust to the change in his horizontal viewpoint, and started downstairs. He stopped not even halfway down at the sound of voices. Buffy and Spike, talking.

He could just barely make out their words. And he wasn't technically spying or anything like that; he was just there and they were too and he could hear them. Mere coincidence.

"…I'm holding it is because of you. Because of the strength that you gave me last night. Look, I am tired of defensiveness and weird, mixed signals. You know, I have Faith for that. Let's just get to the truth here, okay? I don't know how you felt about last night, but I will not-"

"Terrified."

Xander's eyes widened, at the word and its implications. He wondered if Buffy knew what effort it taken the other to say that.

"Of what?"

"Last night was... God, I'm such a jerk. I can't do this."

Xander wished suddenly that he could see Spike's face, could see what the words were painting on that pale, blue-eyed gaze. Making yet another quick decision, Xander crouched down, carefully edging himself over to the banister, where the small, wooden columns holding it up allowed him to see them. Buffy was facing away from him, and Spike- Xander's breath caught. Had the vampire ever looked so-beautiful before?

"Spike...."

"It was the best night of my life. If you poke fun at me, you bloody well better use that, 'cause I couldn't bear it. It may not mean that much to you, but-"

"I just told you it did."

Xander watched the chest rise and fall with a sigh. "Yeah...I hear you say it, but...I've lived for sodding ever, Buffy. I've done everything. Done things with you I can't spell, but...I've never...been close...to anyone. Least of all, you. 'Til last night. All I did was..." The smile that graced those full lips made Xander stop breathing. It was so-happy. He realized he'd never seen Spike truly look happy, "hold you, watch you sleep. And it was the best night of my life. So, yeah...I'm...terrified."

"You don't have to be."

Despite the fact that he knew he should be listening to Buffy-well, he shouldn't be listening at all really, he heard only those softly-spoken words, heard only the vampire with a soul that had stood in front of the Slayer's friends and called them all 'ungrateful traitors'.

The look Spike sent to Buffy was made of steel, and made something akin to respect and admiration swell up in Xander. "Were you there with me?"

"I was."

"What does that mean?"

What were they-? 'All I did was hold you, watch you sleep. And it was the best night of my life.' Oh.

"I don't know. Does it have to mean something?"

"No." The glance that Spike took, toward the floor almost, but not quite- It almost made Xander want to throttle Buffy. Couldn't she see? He-Spike loved her. "Not right now."

"Maybe when...."

"No. Let's just leave it."

"Okay."

"We'll go be heroes." Xander stood there for many long seconds as Spike walked out the door. He was so caught up in what he shouldn't have heard that he didn't even notice Buffy leave.

That was it? It seemed-almost meaningless. She had given him nothing. But-did he actually want anything?

Xander could have slapped himself as he rose from his position and absently let his muscles stretch out. Of course he did. That was plain to see in his words. He was just-being selfless. And that did seem out of character for Spike.

Xander started back up the stairs, sure that he would be able to sleep now. Maybe he didn't know Spike at all….

~&~

"Angel."

He was crouched in the shadows, watching silently. He had been there when Caleb had attacked, yet he had not had time to leap to action before he had shown up, all dark and black and mysterious. Bloody poof!

Of course he'd bloody well followed her! That's why he hadn't asked her what exactly she was going out for. He'd accepted her ambiguous answers, accepted her words…. Surely there was hope. And of course he had to follow her. His curiosity and-frankly his love for her demanded it. Then the other knight had shown up.

And now-he watched them.

Buffy's smile was bright enough to illuminate the place where Spike crouched. He felt like grimacing. It was not aimed at him. It was aimed at him. Had it ever been aimed at him? "See? Under control."

He couldn't see the other man's face, didn't want to. But he heard the amusement in his voice; the sure, confidence that spoke of a closeness that Spike did not have with- "Well...at least you could tell me you're glad to see me."

Spike narrowed his eyes, almost hissing as he watched the taller, bulkier man approach the Slayer, black-clothed shoulders almost blocking his view of her.

Buffy dropped the scythe, as if she had forgotten it. 'And the reason I'm holding it is because of you. Because of the strength that you gave me last night.' He watched her silently approach Angel; then his eyes flicked downward, at the discarded scythe. 'And the reason I'm holding it is because of you. Because of the strength that you gave me last night.'

When he turned back around, it was to a sight that made his borrowed blood boil. They were-kissing. It was no chaste meeting of lips; it was the tongue-clashing, passionate kind that usually initiated sex. The kind that two people who were just friends did not give each other. He felt himself grimace, felt a growl well up in his throat that was not uttered as a voice spoke up behind him.

He didn't have to turn around to see who it was. Their was no beating heart, no body heat, no breath hitting his ear as it whispered there.

"That bitch."

He did not turn to look at the First. Instead he rose, wearily, silently, quickly, and left the mausoleum. He didn't need to see anymore.

He was heading back to the house because he had no where else to go. Because he had to be there for someone who would never be there for him, who had made an empty promise with words she'd never meant. 'Maybe when....' There would be no when. There would be no later. Those-words had been just that, words. Empty, meaningless.

Maybe he had known that. Maybe that was why he had interrupted her. He'd known she'd only be saying words she would never act upon. And he was lucky he had. It seemed she would've broken those words not two seconds into things.

He let out a snort of laughter that wholly mocked himself and entered the house quietly. He stood there for a moment, looking upstairs and-smelling someone. It was an old scent, faint. As if the person had been there and gone.

Spike looked at the stairs contemplatively. He really wanted to go downstairs, work out some aggression. He had an itching to pick up pencil and paper and do a little sketch, pin that pointy-headed poofster to the bag conveniently placed for him downstairs. But-that scent was familiar, tickling his nose and curiosity until he snorted softly and gave in to it.

He climbed the steps, stopping as the scent hit him full-on. His face showed his confusion. What had he been doing here not an hour ago?

Spike's eyes widened at the significance of that time period. Had he-heard anything? That would explain why the scent stopped here, didn't go down any further. Spike's eyes narrowed in consideration.

So, he'd heard things…. And-what? His head rose, tilting to the side as he eyed where the other's room was. It wouldn't have mattered to the old Spike if he'd heard except for his dignity, his worn pride that would've demanded a threat to keep the other silent, to not repeat or even remember what he had said.

But what did he care? The Slayer wanted the old Spike, and he'd certainly made every effort to give her that, to shove the others aside and be as he always was, aloof, condescending, keeping a distance between himself and everyone else. And it had gotten him one night in her arms, one 'terrifying' night, and seeing a kiss shared between old lovers. Could he ever be who he had been? It was better to keep everyone out, to not try to be someone different. Besides, it wasn't like anyone believed any different.

Still-he'd heard things and hadn't jumped in the middle and interrupted them. He'd-gone back to bed.

Spike almost jerked back into the shadows, a pure reaction from years of conditioning, when his door opened. He stepped out, hair at an awkward angle on his head, a grimace on his face, and his face appearing as worn as someone who-

Brown eyes caught and held blue. He appeared nervous, as if he'd jump back into room any second; then relaxed, flashing a comfortable grin. One he usually gave to the girls. Certainly never to Spike.

"Can't sleep. How about you?"

Spike shrugged, watching as the other walked toward him. "Night creature."

Xander let out a chuckle and moved past Spike, seemingly not concerned with the fact that the vampire was on the stairs, though he would have nothing he could possibly be there for. "That's right. You do that whole creature of the night, sucky thing." He shot a glance at Spike out of the corner of his eye, suddenly nervous again. "Not that you do that anymore. I just meant-"

Spike waved a hand toward him, following him silently to the kitchen. "Know what you meant." He didn't know why the other had started to babble. Usually only Red did that around him. Xander just threw the insults.

He watched the other pull out a glass and reach into the fridge. He jiggled the carton of orange juice, frowned when it turned out empty, and stuck it back inside, going to the sink and getting water instead. He spoke over his shoulder. "Want anything?"

Spike sat down slowly, wondering at this strange man that was-being polite to him. There had been few enough times of that. "'M fine."

Xander turned with the glass in hand, watching Spike over the rim as he took a long drink. He finished, set the drink down on the table, and sat across from the vampire. Spike almost shifted uncomfortably before stilling himself before the human's scrutiny. "She got her weapon."

Xander nodded, taking another drink. "Yeah. Really helped the girls last night. Also heard," Spike tensed, "that her and Faith see eye to eye now. I think that's good."

Spike nodded, and then decided he would offer something to the conversation beyond the usual. "Don't like that the Nibblet's involved. Should be away from here."

Xander's head ducked down for a moment before it came back up. Spike blinked. He looked-set. "That's my fault. Buffy told me to take her away from the fight, but-I refused. I want to fight…and so does Dawn. I just couldn't-"

Spike tilted his head to one side. "Understand, mate. I wouldn't want to be 'put out to pasture' as you Yanks say either. Still, Dawn'll need some help. You and her-not fighters you two."

Xander blinked at the complete reiteration of his own words. Then relief flooded his features. "Yeah, you're right there. Maybe-I don't know-you could give us some pointers tomorrow?"

Spike nodded. "Pretty sure the Slayer plans the attack for tomorrow. Might get in a few defensive techniques before then."

Xander raised a brow. "Tomorrow? Wow. That's-not so far away."

Spike raised a brow, wondering at the other's sudden-well, amiability. "Nervous?"

Xander looked seriously at the vampire with a soul. And Spike did have a soul too. Imagine that. He was starting to understand just what a soul was. Spike seemed-more mature. "Yeah. I mean, this First…. There's a reason it's called the First. It's-the biggest baddest. Badder than you."

Spike raised an eyebrow, this time in amusement. "That's pretty bad. I've been known to-do stuff in my time." He titled his head to the side again, and Xander wondered why he'd never noticed just how often Spike did that. "You know, he made a mistake."

Xander took a sip of his drink, weighing the words, before coming to the decision that he had no idea what Spike was talking about. "Huh?"

Spike smirked at the eloquence. "You can see all right, but he didn't do nothing by blinding you. You still see perfect."

Xander's mouth hung open; he knew this, but he couldn't seem to shut it. "Uh, right. You know, I didn't exactly know what he was talking about, and I have no clue what you're talking about. But now I'm curious."

Spike chuckled. And it felt good to do that, to just get lost in the man's words and-enjoy himself. "You-see things, mate. You understand things. You see what's needed, what needs to be said or done, and you say or do it."

Xander could feel the flush creeping onto his face and hid it by gulping down the rest of his drink. "Um, yeah. I guess so." No one had ever said anything like that. He felt-warm inside. "So, you wanna start that training now? I mean, I'm not going to be going to sleep now with-thoughts of tomorrow and-you're a night creature…."

Spike's eyes flickered lightly over the man seated across from him before nodding silently. He rose and started out the kitchen, hearing Xander following him down the stairs and into what was considered to be Spike's room.

Spike stilled at the bottom on the stairs, peering into the dimness with narrowed eyes. He heard Xander stumble to a halt behind him. "Buffy."

Buffy nodded her head, eyes momentarily flickering to Xander. "Can I talk to Spike alone?" She decided that she wouldn't wonder at why Xander was here. There were more important things…. She gripped the amulet she held in her hand tighter.

He could almost hear the reluctance in the other's voice. "No problem. Needed to get some sleep anyways. See you tomorrow."

Neither Spike nor Buffy responded as Xander trudged back up the stairs. He closed the door on the private conversation and felt, for some odd reason, regret….

~&~

A knock on the door echoed throughout the house and a cheerful, boyish voice called out loudly to no one in particular. "I'll get it."

The door opened only to reveal no one on the other side. The boy looked around in bewilderment before his eyes fell on a simple, brown box on the step. Frowning lightly, he bent down and picked it up, examining it for any markings. It had his name printed clearly on the top.

Looking around almost guiltily, he saw no one it could belong to. He shook the box, hearing slight rattle and stopping immediately. He'd probably already broken it.

Bemused with himself and the strange package, he closed the door and stared at the box for a moment. Shrugging his shoulders almost imperceptibly, he ripped open the box. Fingers grasped something like cold metal and pulled out an intricately detailed charm on a silver chain. The whole thing was huge and reminded him of a crystal. It was heavy too; he could feel that as he hefted it in his hands.

Glancing in the box, he noticed a slip of folded paper in the bottom, juggling the amulet and the box in his hands, he carefully extracted and opened it. On it, in a neat cursive script, was simply the words "wear me."

He chuckled, reminded of Alice in Wonderland. The girl's curiosity had gotten her into a lot of trouble with that stuff too. He cocked his head to one side, looked around to see where his family members were, and grinned deviously. Couldn't hurt anything.

Still grinning, he slipped the amulet over his head.

As the amulet rested on his chest, the boy's face twisted in something that could only be pain….

~&~

Throwing another of the 'uber-vamps' over his head, Spike set to work on the others that came at them like a tidal wave. They weren't slowing, they weren't tiring…and the bloody amulet should have- Spike's eyes widened and a hand lightly scraped at the amulet in wonder. He retracted his hand as fire and pain lanced up it. Looking up, he searched the battlegrounds frantically before spying her. "Buffy! Whatever this thing does, I think it's-" His voice was suddenly cut off with a groan as a wave of heat engulfed him.

Like the boy hours away from his location, Spike's face twisted in pain.

~&~

As the building crumbled around him, as the last of Turok-Han died their grisly death, Spike smiled. It truly felt amazing, even if it was burning him from the inside out. It was-cleansing, purifying. Exactly as it had been in that single, ecstatic moment when he had been gifted this. And how could it be anything but a gift?

With a final sigh, the souled vampire vanished in flames.

~&~

At the same exact moment, and with wide eyes, Connor vanished from his living room, hand clutching the glowing amulet.

~&~

Dawn glanced at her sister. "Yeah, Buffy. What are we gonna do now?"

Xander could hear the others talking around him, could hear them speaking about the Hellmouth in Cleveland, but he was still reeling from his own losses. His jokes to Andrew had been meaningless, as meaningless as his search for-her body.

She was dead. The precious demon that had been so literal and smiled all the time and tried to be as human as possible, even when it was no longer true. His Anya…his strong Anya.

And then Spike. And he had no idea what to feel for him. When Spike had gotten the chip, they'd gotten into the comfortable roles of being enemies who had to work together. The insults, the smart-ass remarks, they were all part and parcel with that package.

Then Buffy had died and they had become true comrades-in-arms. Had Spike felt betrayal then, when they had kept Buffy's resurrection from him? From that time on, their relationship had changed. And it had only worsened as he had left Anya at the altar, as Spike and Anya took comfort in one another, as Spike tried to force Buffy….

When he'd come back with a soul, Xander hadn't given him one consideration, one thought that he might have changed, that a soul made him different. He'd treated him as he'd treated Angel when he'd lost his soul and then come back with it. He'd treated him no differently.

But Spike had been there for Buffy when everyone else had turned away. It was very clear, now, that they had been 'ungrateful traitors.' Spike had proven-to Xander at least, that he was worthy of a soul, that he was better than he had been. Perhaps that was why his thoughts were of Spike as he gazed out at the wasteland that had been Sunnydale, as his friends and family spoke of Cleveland with excitement and barely contained thoughts of adventure.

Smirking in a way that would've done the vampire proud, Xander turned to the others. "So? Let's get going! I'm ready for a change of location, this place is boring."

As everyone mock-glared at Xander's anger and turned to the bus for departure, Xander sent a word to Spike. One that summed up what Spike had given them.

'Thanks.'

A/N: So, anyone want to know what that thing with Connor was? Anyone? Anyone want to see what happens in Cleveland, and how the hell this can be a X/S when Spike's dead? If you do, leave a few words. I update as long as I get one review. One review is all I ask for. Lol ^_^