Chapter Text
"Where are you going to go?"
"Dunno."
Buffy leaned on the handlebars of the bike, not looking at his face, because if she did she'd try to figure out what he was thinking at that moment. And that didn't matter, it could be a million things, a million plans or avoidances or lies, and what Spike thinks has never mattered as much as what Spike feels. Which hasn't been in question for a long time.
"Got room for a passenger?"
His hands clenched on the grips, and she really couldn't look at him now. Not until he answered her.
"What are you trying to ask, Slayer?"
You were supposed to say yes, she thought. I gave you an opening and you were supposed to take it without asking. But when had Spike ever done exactly what she wanted? She lifted her eyes from the chrome and steel to meet his gaze, as hard as the metal of the bike.
"The Hellmouth's gone. Sealed and erased forever. Dawn's safe. Most of the Potentials are... gone. Giles..." And she couldn't say anything more then. Spike's eyes softened a little, watching her face. She wondered if her Watcher had a grave she could visit, somewhere in England. "Willow and Xander said they'd look after Dawn and the rest of the girls for a few weeks. And I... I need a break. A vacation. Just for a little while." Not like the last time she'd taken off, telling no one and not knowing where she was going. This time would be different. Very different, if she had her way.
"They wouldn't like it, you taking off with me."
"They already know. They said to call when we get where we're going."
"Bugger!"
Blind shock there, and his expression startled a smile out of her. "Xander said to remind you to feed me. And not to take the Pacific Coast Highway too fast, you don't have a license and getting pulled over and jailed isn't a good enough excuse for calling him for bail money. Willow said to be sure to get her a souvenir. Dawn made me promise to check in every night, and to make sure *you* eat."
"Presumptuous lot, aren't they?" He swallowed, looking away from her and closing his eyes. "Pet, this won't work."
"Why?"
And now they were back on script, and he was glaring at her, and the giggles were bubbling up in spite of everything. In spite of grief, and loss, and the layer of nervous fear underneath it all. The Faith in the back of her head was chortling. "Jesus, B, just jump him already, why don't you?" The Anya back there agreed with her. The Giles was refusing to comment. Or watch. Or do anything but polish his glasses and pretend he couldn't see what was about to happen.
"It won't work 'cause nothing's changed! I love you! And you're not in love with me." He calmed down as he spoke, shrugging one shoulder angrily. "We were never friends, Slayer. It's not like we can go off into the sunset and be buddies now. And I don't have the strength or the stupidity to pretend that's fine anymore." He turned back to her, his expression closed off. "Let me go."
"No." She leaned forward, into his personal space, and he blinked with the surprised look that made her gleeful to have shocked him. He nearly always saw her coming, saw too much, and getting him in his blind spot was always funny, whether it was with words or fists. "You're right. We were never friends."
"Damn straight."
"Doesn't mean we can't be now. Or something more. Love might be blood screaming for you, but it takes longer for me to figure out."
There it was again, that wondering gaze that stopped her cold in her tracks; the expression that meant he was holding his metaphorical breath, unable to believe his ears or his eyes, like she was some kind of miracle. "What?"
"You heard me." She wasn't going to say it twice, because she wasn't going to make promises she couldn't keep. Or give more hope than she could make good on.
"Is this some kind of test? Some kind of bloody - I don't know, some freakish Slayer test to see what I'll do? Turn evil again if you torture me? Damnit, Slayer, I don't-"
"It's not a test. It's an offer. A traveling companion and friend, and maybe..." She shrugged. "It's your call."
"Maybe?" Spike narrowed his eyes. "Man can't live on maybes. What are you waiting for? What's it going to take?" She stayed silent, and he laughed humorlessly. His voice softened as she clenched the handlebars. "It's okay to say it's not going to happen for you, pet. I don't need a damn trophy. You're not my prize. I got the soul, fought the good fight, all of it- did what I did for me, and to make things right, and 'cause..."
He pushed one hand through his hair, clenched his jaw. "But goddamn it, don't string me along. Let me make a clean break, or tell me what it'll take to make you love me. But I'm not going to beg. Not any more. What the hell's left, Buffy? What's it take?"
And oh, this was so much easier than it deserved to be.
"Time."
"Time?" He froze again, staring at her, his eyes widening at the delight growing on her face.
So much simpler than she'd dreamed it would be.
"Time. Real dates. Talking. Maybe some dancing. Finding out who you are now. Finding out who I am around you when you've got a soul, and we're not saving the world." Her voice choked off at the stillness in his eyes. "No promises. I won't do that to you. The second I know, one way or the other, you'll know too. But- I want the chance. If... if you don't have any other plans."
"Time," he repeated, and the slow smirk he gifted her with made her want to dance. "Funny thing. I've got plenty of that. And no immediate plans."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," he whispered, leaning forward, his gaze flicking down to her lips. Buffy didn't back away. And when the soft kiss broke off, there wasn't any suggestion of violence, either passionate or angry. It reminded her of the kiss she'd given him after Glory hurt him, in the crypt, nearly two years ago. His lips curled up. "Get your stuff. Not waiting on you all night, pet."
"Already here." She skipped over to the nearest gravestone and picked up her bag from the spot where she'd hidden it.
"You daft- You were pretty bloody confident, weren't you? I should leave you here, just to teach you a lesson-"
"Wouldn't work now. I'd just follow you. I'm not getting ditched by people I care about again, Spike."
"Oh." Buffy caught a glimpse of the rare shyness in his eyes as she settled onto the bike behind him. "Right, then. Hang on tight."
She clasped her hands around his waist, and leaned into the wind as the bike sped up, the streetlights flashing by above. You Are Now Leaving Sunnydale! went by in a blink, and then they were outside the city limits, heading north, as she smiled.