The Mired Path 11/19
Title: The Mired Path
Author: Pricelessspike (Priceless)
Setting: Post Season 12 (Comic compliant)
Rating: PG
Warning: Spike/Other
Word Count: 1600
Summary: In Season 12 Buffy and Spike break up. Spike eventually leaves and this is their first meeting in three years. Plus, Angel needs rescuing.
A/N: Massive thanks to my wonderful betas Stoney and TriBel, if you like anything in this fic, it's because of them. All mistakes are mine, because I can't stop re-writing.
Chapter 11
Buffy stuck her head out of the tent and was pleased to see the drizzle had stopped, although it was still a cloudy and unappealing day. Spike was sitting by the fire, his back to her. “Good morning,” she called, hoping she sounded more cheerful then she felt.
“Morning,” he answered, standing and walking towards her. He crouched before the tent opening and held out her jeans and socks, which were folded and bone dry. “Had to stay up to keep the fire going. Got these dry.”
Buffy stared into Spike’s face, so close she could count every eyelash. He smiled and proffered the clothing to her. Buffy took them from him, her fingers brushing his, and mumbled, “Thank you, that’s good of you,” before quickly disappearing inside.
She doubted very much that Spike had stayed up all night simply to dry her clothes, but even so, he had dried them, folded them and presented them so sweetly she couldn’t help but feel touched. This was the Spike she knew, the one who’d bring her breakfast in bed, sit for hours sharpening her swords and tape episodes of his soaps so he could watch them when she was out. She realised she had a silly grin on her face and the guilt returned. Spike had moved on, he had a whole new life and she’d told him she accepted that, yet here she was getting giddy because he’d done something nice for her. They were here on a mission, not to rekindle some long dead romance. She pulled on the jeans and socks and laced up her boots before joining him by the fire.
“Here,” he said, handing her a mug of tea and a pack of cookies. She looked at him with amazement, not knowing they had tea-making facilities. “The Bit put some tea bags and a pan in my pack,” Spike explained. “All the mod cons,” he said with a grin.
Buffy grinned back, though she had no idea what ‘mod cons’ were. She sat by the fire, drank her tea and stole sly glances at Spike, who was poking at the fire with a stick. “Be careful,” she said, afraid a stray spark may do him some damage.
“Look,” he said, and put his hand over the flame. Buffy gasped and reached out to grab him. “See,” he said, turning his hand over. There was a small red mark in the centre of his palm, but that was all. Buffy took his hand, turned it over and studied it.
“The sun doesn’t dust you and fire doesn’t immolate. Maybe I should try a stake to the heart?” she said jokingly, releasing his hand.
“Last night… the tent…,” he said, changing the subject and throwing another small branch onto the fire.
“It doesn’t matter,” she interrupted quickly, “I get it.” She really didn’t think she could bear Spike explaining that the last thing he needed was to sleep in a confined space with her. No matter how innocent the situation, Spike would see it as a betrayal of Connor, and though she ached to have him close, she didn’t want to put him in that position.
“We ought to make a start,” she said, throwing out the dregs of tea and handing the mug back to Spike. After brushing her teeth, she packed up the sleeping bags while Spike took the tent down.
“Smell anything?” she asked when they were packed and ready to go. Spike vamped out and smelled the air. She thought there was something quite potent in such an animalistic act. He’d raise his head, take in the scents and savour them a moment, before shaking off the animal and returning to human face.
“Maybe,” he replied, not sounding particularly confident, “if we keep going east, it may get stronger.” Buffy nodded, she had faith he wouldn’t lead them astray. They continued east, staying to the woods for the most part. Although the weather had improved, they thought the wood gave them added protection.
“Buffy, look.” Spike had the watch in his hand. It no longer looked like a normal watch, but the face had split into two, and the two halves were floating over each other. One of the faces was a shimmering cornflower blue and showed the current time, 07:45, while the other was a golden yellow, brighter than the blue and shooting little sparks of light. It showed the time 03:20. They had 7 hours 35 minutes to find Angel and Illyria and get to the portal.
“Look at the arrow,” Spike said. Buffy saw it was pointing to the west, the opposite direction to which they were travelling.
“Dammit, we can’t turn back now.” She turned to Spike, looking for confirmation. He vamped out again, “Still east. Faint. The scent of fire… and cattle, maybe.”
“Sorry Dawnie,” Buffy sighed sadly, “we’ll catch the next one.” She’d known they wouldn’t find Angel and Illyria quickly, but she couldn’t help feeling disappointed at having to literally turn their back on their escape route. Spike put the compass back into his pocket and they both tried to forget the minutes counting down as they trudged on through the wood. The compass had become an albatross around their necks, a constant reminder of their failure. It added a new level of bleakness to an already arduous mission.
“C’mon Slayer, even roughing it in hell’s got to be better than the SFPD.”
Buffy couldn’t help but laugh, appreciating Spike’s attempts to lift the mood. “It doesn’t happen often Spike, but sometimes you’re righter than you know.”
“So, tell me,” he asked, “was it the polyester uniform that swung it?” Buffy stifled another laugh.
“You want to know for real?” she asked. Spike nodded, of course. “I didn’t know what else to do.” She thought back to those days, the future had been saved and everyone else was making plans. “It’s like you said, everything was changing and I felt left behind.” They exchanged a look of understanding. “Faith thought it was a good idea, that it’d give us something real to do, you know?”
“Oh, so you listen to Faith now do you, well then,” Spike said sarcastically. Buffy kicked out at him playfully and he chuckled at their shared joke.
“I wanted something other than ‘Slayer’, on my tombstone,” Buffy said more seriously. “I wanted to be part of the world.”
“So, why’d you leave?” Spike asked.
“Oh, it was awful,” Buffy said with a grin as Spike rolled his eyes. “Shift work and slaying are unmixy things. And I had to pass a firearms course, and do actual policework. Like, actually arrest human people. That’s not what I signed up for.” Buffy laughed. “You were there, you know, we we’re told we’d be the foundation of a new SFPD Supernatural Crimes Division, but that never happened. Faith disappeared after two months; she couldn’t take taking orders. I was more committed, thought it would get better, so I hung on. Then Giles left, taking Andrew, you left of course, and then Angel.”
“Where’s Faith now?”
“She’s in London most of the time, working for the Council,” Buffy replied. “We talk occasionally. She travels a lot. Dawn told you, she was dating an actor, so you know as much as me.”
“Oh yeah, must have blocked that out,” he said, though she knew he’d been so overwhelmed he’d probably not heard half the things Dawn had said. “So how come she gets a corner office at headquarters while you get a hellmouth?” asked Spike, sounding disgruntled on her behalf.
Buffy had never thought of her situation in those terms before. She suddenly thought she might like to give London a try, it must surely be less stressful than living on a hellmouth. “Giles didn’t ask me,” she said, “he asked Andrew to help him. Faith just turned up there one day and Giles gave her a job.” Buffy thought she might ring Giles when she got home and suggest she spent some time at Council headquarters, just to reacquaint herself with protocol.
“Yeah, I always wondered what was up with that, Giles asking Andrew to help and not you.” Buffy was taken aback by how annoyed Spike sounded. He’d never talked to her about any of this. Maybe he didn’t think he had any right to comment on her decisions after the split? When she didn’t answer he asked, “And what about the Magical Council? What happened to the Vampyr book? Don’t tell me Faith is writing the rules of magic? That would actually explain a lot.”
Buffy didn’t want to admit it, but she felt a tiny bit irritated by Spike’s questioning. He’d made it sound like other people were doing interesting and exciting things, while she was… Well what was she doing? She was living on a hellmouth, slaying vampires, like always. And where was the Vampyr book? For all she knew, Riley Finn was leading the Magic Council. What did Faith do? Was Andrew her sister’s boss? She knew nothing outside of slaying and her job at the coffee shop. For the first time since moving to Cleveland she regretted cutting herself off and not being more involved in her own life.
“When you left,” Buffy stopped walking and turned to Spike, having come to another realisation, “it threw me. You were my safety net, you know?” She was glad he said nothing, she really needed to talk. “I know I’d broken us up, but that didn’t feel real,” she was struggling to find the words. “You were still in my life, and I mean completely in my life. Like you said, I even decorated your apartment. Then you were gone and I knew it was my fault. Then Angel left and I felt adrift. Moving to Cleveland cut me off even more, but it was a way of punishing myself, you know? Like, I’d been so dumb and I was so angry at myself and everyone. Poor Willow especially. So yeah, I felt stuck while everyone else was moving forward, so I changed everything and guess what? I ended up slaying vampires on the hellmouth. Oh irony, thy name is Buffy.”
She stared walking again, not waiting for Spike. Willow had once asked her if moving to Cleveland was a punishment and Buffy had angrily denied it. But she realised Willow had been right. Posting herself to an unknown hellmouth in Ohio, alone and knowing no one, was very much a punishment and she felt stupid for not seeing it earlier. She really was Denialy Buffy. She might try London, or the Magic Council, she might move back to San Francisco or take a round the world cruise, she didn’t know. But she did know if they ever got home, she wouldn’t be staying in Cleveland.
“Thanks…” She wanted to thank him for being a good listener, but he wasn’t walking alongside her anymore. He’s stopped a few feet back, unmoving, vamped out and staring through the trees. She walked back to him and looked in the direction he was looking.
“See it?” He pointed ahead, but she could see nothing in this grey light.
“What is it?”
“It’s a ruin now, but it was once a house. Can’t smell anything human. C’mon, let’s have a look see.”