taxonomites | [location: summers house] & [very accidental visual] when it all falls down

Even though a while has elapsed since Buffy led the attack against Fangtasia, she's still impressively beat up. Walking is less of a problem at least, and the bruises have started taking on that yellowish fading hue. The cuts are healing, though the deeper ones still persist.

Secondary to these physical pains, however, is the mental and emotional drain of worrying about the possible retaliation of the vampires. Worrying that they might hurt someone she loves, because of her own actions. Not to mention the new headache in the form of Drusilla, which is a special issue all its own.

What she really needs right now is the comforting reassurances of her best friend. The ridiculous banter, the stupid jokes, the hugs, the mockery, the warmth, the smiles... Xander. Except when she heads down to the basement, he's not there. She didn't hear him leave. She calls for him, she tries the kitchen, the lounge-- she gets her tablet and scans the map, checking to see if he's at the Bronze. But the Bronze isn't there anymore, and nor is he. He's not anywhere. His name and his dot are nowhere to be seen, and she checks and re-checks and tries calling him, but gets the equivalent of an 'incorrect number' message in response.

Numb, and through a misty haze, she half-stumbles her way to the porch, sits down on the step, buries her face in her hands and sobs, disconsolately.

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Buffy had the decency to look sheepish when Spike laughed at her, feeling a little stupid. Though how was she to know that he'd been avoiding Dru? She was his sire after all, and they'd had that 'eternal' love he'd once been so keen to demonstrate to Buffy, the last time said vampire was in Sunnydale... it wasn't as though she feared Dru would have some kind of malevolent influence over him-- he was far better than that-- but maybe part of her was a bit jealous, subconsciously. ...No, maybe a little consciously too, no matter how she tried to exercise the denial effect herself. Apparently it was all unfounded anyway, however.

"Cute idea. Somehow I don't think the elusive 'they' are much for righteous and fair, though." She replied, smiling very slightly, in a subdued sort of way. After a quiet pause in which she scuffed the porch with her foot, she looked up at him, more seriously. "Thank you for coming, Spike."

Edited 2009-10-25 01:46 (UTC)

He suspected that the people who brought them there wouldn't be so kind. But he'd certainly lodge a complaint...once he found the correct office to do so.

He smiled a bit when Buffy thanked him, glancing down at his feet for a moment before smiling slightly wider at her. "'s what I'm here for. Or I choose to believe it's what I'm here for, anyway. The tossers can have their own reasons and torturin' ways, but-" He sniffed, shrugging and attempting to like he didn't care very much about what he was saying. He was fairly bad at it. "At the very least, they let me see you again. That's one plus in their book, even if it's against many, many minuses."

The way Spike looked at her, his words (they were so sweet), made her stomach clench and her mind spin off in various directions, none of which seemed to agree with each other. She was beyond glad to see him again, she cared deeply for him... but what did any of that mean? What did he want from her? Hadn't they joked, years ago, that a cosy crypt for two with a white picket fence was a stupid notion? It was all so confusing.

"Spike--" she started to say, looking up at him, about to try and voice some of this, but somehow the words faltered on her lips. So instead, lamely, she finished with, "--how, umm, how're you healing up?"

Yeah, he'd known it was too much when he was saying it. But somehow that didn't stop him from spitting them out, anyway. It was just the truth, and sometimes that's impossible to hold back.

He chuckled a bit at her verbal flailing, but didn't push for any more serious conversation. Instead he rolled his head around on his neck, cracking a few bones. "Still got some to go, but it's not bad, not bad at all. I've been in worse fights- 'course, they usually last longer than three seconds." He shook his head as if annoyed and shrugged. "How about you? You're looking better. Less banged up than last I saw you."

Buffy didn't blame him for saying it-- she just had no idea how to deal with it-- and his chuckling didn't help. "Good. That's... good." God, her filler even sounded pathetic to herself. Of course she cared about how Spike was healing up, but it was by no means what was currently on her mind. She sighed, fidgeting with her hands in her lap.

"Me? I'm... still in the realm of ouch, but thankfully most of it you can't see. At least he mostly laid off the face."

[location: summers house] & [very accidental visual] when it all falls down

[Location: Summers House]

[Location: Summers House]

[Location: Summers House]

[Location: Summers House]

[Location: Summers House]