Continuation of that drabble ...no regrets..

[shadowkat]

"How long have you been living here, Spike?"

"Will."

"What?"

"It's Will, not Spike."

"Oh. Sorry. I knew that."

He shrugged. "Don't be sorry, happens a lot. Part of the reason I moved up here. Got sick of people calling me that. Old nickname, outgrew ten years back. Know what I mean?"

She nodded. She did. There were times she'd grown tired of being called Slayer.
Considering there were so many now it seemed a bit like being called rock star.
Although she doubted that was the same thing.

"What you think of Chuck?"

"Who?"

"Charley boy - I presume you ran into him outside, right?"

"Tall black man? Yes, I did. But we didn't speak very long."

He laughed. A quick short sarcastic laugh. That for a moment brought her back in time, to the old days.

They entered a large living room, with windows overlooking the tree-tops.
On one side of the room was a wall filled with nothing but photographs, of all shapes and sizes, surrounding a large fireplace. The other side of the room contained bookshelves and on the walls between them crosses. The crosses caught her off guard. Different shapes and sizes. All varieties. Mostly wood though. Encased in glass was a beautiful gold leaf book with ornate lettering.
She got closer to it for a better look. It was an 17th Century Bible.

"My Mum's," he said behind her. "Handed down through my family. One of the few things I could find of her's."

"Oh, its...lovely. But why all the crosses?"

"You never can be too careful. Granted there haven't been many vamps around since that last apocalypse. But.. don't want to be taking any chances, do I?"

His accent was different, she thought. The English Punk twinge was gone from it. Oh he still sounded English, but more like Wesely used to or Giles. Less like Spike.

She turned around to look past him at the photographs. At the top of the fireplace, she saw a portrait of woman in Victorian garb, light hair and sharp cheekbones, sitting regally on a seat next to a fireplace. "Is that her? Your Mom?"

"That be her." He dusted the photo off with his sleeve.

To the left of the photo she saw a couple of Drusilla, one of Angel and one of Darla. She glanced up at him in surprise. But he didn't deign to answer her query either vocally or with his eyes. Not that they were on hers anyways, no, they were on the photos in front of them as if he were lost inside them, lost inside that time, if only for a moment.

"Do you miss them?"

"What? No. See old Liam, a few times a year and believe me that's more than enough for both of us."

"Liam?"

"Sorry, Angel. Liam's his Christian name."

"Do you miss Dru?"

He smiled, a softness hitting his eyes, then slowly shook his head. "Not now, no. She's at peace now, isn't she? Old man saw to that. Would have staked her my own self, but..." He shook his head. "Angel was right, it had to be him. Enough of this..."

"Who are these other pictures of?"

"The ones around me old Mum? That's family mostly. Gang in LA. People we met after..." His voice caught for a moment. "Ones next Dru and Angelus, those are people we killed. Some sired. Some just hurt. Some murdered. After I...changed, Charley and Annie helped me track down the families, attempt to make amends. Which of course is impossible - Angel tried to tell me that. So'd that young welp of his, Connor. Great kid Connor. Didn't listen. Charely also tried. No, had to find out for my own self. You can't change the past, Buffy. Can't go back. Can't undo things. And sometimes Sorry, it just don't count for much. Wood - he knew that. And maybe he had it right back in that garage of his - plastered with crosses...." He shrugged. "Sorry, you didn't come all the way up here to hear me chatter on so. Got some tea on if you want any."

Buffy nodded. She stared at the crosses again. Then back at the photos. Surprised to see a picture of Harmony amongst them. Not so surprised to see pictures of herself, her mother, and Dawn. He even had photos of Cordy, Giles, Wes, Faith, Wood, Xander, Tara, and Willow - which did surprise her. Since she didn't think he cared much for them. Some were placed amongst his family, most though, she noted, were placed amongst the photos he called his victims.

Angel had not so much told her as hinted that Spike wasn't doing that well. It surprised her, of the two of them she'd expected Spike to handle the transfer better somehow. He always wanted to be treated like a man - not a thing, not a super-hero, just a man. Or that was her impression. Also he'd never seemed to regret much...well not until he got the soul, but even then, he seemed to just sluff everything off. If he'd shown a bit more regret, she doubted Giles and Wood would have tried to kill him. Yet here he was overflowing with nothing but regrets, while she oddly had none. It was an odd mirror to look into, flipped in a way from the one she remembered, and perhaps that was the reason she'd post-poned this visit as long as she had. For in some ways, Spike had always felt a bit like her mirror. Just as Faith had.

The fact he'd chosen to live like a hermit after the change also surprised her - since the Spike she'd known wanted to be surrounded by people. He was always seeking people out or so she'd assumed. Perhaps she'd been wrong?
The man she'd met at the door and was now going to bring her tea was a stranger. She did not know him. He did not fit with the memories, even though she knew memories lied. Blurred together. Nor did she miss Spike, that wasn't it. She'd put those feelings aside ages ago, come to peace with them. And over time they had faded, bit by bit, piece by piece. Oh he still had a place in her heart, was still a part of her, that wouldn't change. But she did not miss him any more than she missed Angel. She looked fondly back at both of them.
That was all.

[Okay, rough, but not too bad...more writing it for myself than any other reason. Just to see where my mind takes me. Really have no clue. Just writing this baby free hand with no betaing or proofing. Was asked a funky question this week, by the by - "how would you live your life if you thought no one was looking?" Interesting. So I ask anyone out there - "how would you write if you thought no one would ever be reading..."? ]

Comments

[graffitiandsara.livejournal.com]

Now, that's what I call service! So if I say I'm now waiting for part 4, will it magically appear? That would be good. I'm ready for more.

[midnightsjane.livejournal.com]

I really like this. I think that it shows a side of Spike that was buried pretty deeply under the bad boy persona, the William that was. I'm not surprised that it would resurface. I love that Buffy is so strong and secure about who she is. More, please!

[oursin.livejournal.com]

Lovely.

[petzipellepingo.livejournal.com]

Yet here he was overflowing with nothing but regrets, while she oddly had none. It was an odd mirror to look into, flipped in a way from the one she remembered, and perhaps that was the reason she'd post-poned this visit as long as she had. For in some ways, Spike had always felt a bit like her mirror. Just as Faith had.
Very interesting story and a way of looking at the characters post-NFA that I haven't seen before. Spike and Faith really did mirror Buffy didn't they?
This is a very adult self aware Buffy and a saddened regretful Spike.