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Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground	By : cousinjean Category: AtS/BtVS Crossovers > Het - Male/Female > Buffy/Spike(William) > Buffy/Spike(William) Views: 2581 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS) or Angel, the Series (AtS); nor any of the characters from them. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Dead Leaves & the Dirty Ground

by cousinjean

Chapter Two - Every Night I Save You

RATING: R
PREVIOUSLY: Angel & Wesley discussed their suspicions about Spike's intentions to try and save Buffy, and bickered over who should go confront him. Xander came to visit and ended up with the job. Lots of conversation between him and Spike revealed that Dawn's in college, Willow just got back from a year in a kibbutz in Israel and is now working for a software company in San Francisco, and Xander is an independent contractor and lives in Santa Barbara. And still has an eye-patch. Oh, and also that Spike is miserable, and still wants Buffy back, but that's pretty much a given.

A/N: If you're wondering what the heck Fray is but are too afraid to ask, go here to find out.

~*~
"Here's a question for you."
Spike tore his eyes away from his book long enough to glance down at his lady-love sprawled out on their beach blanket, using his stomach as a pillow while she flipped through a magazine.
"What's that, Pet?"
"What sort of things did you used to wear back before jeans and a tee-shirt became an acceptable look?"
With a shrug he said, "I was always a fashionable bloke."
Buffy snickered.
"What?"
"I'm trying to picture you in a zoot suit."
He grinned. "Shoulda seen me in the sixties. That was a sight to behold."
"So then�" She sat up and rifled through the pages. Finding what she wanted, she held it up for him to see. "You won't mind wearing this for the wedding?"
Spike lifted his sunglasses and squinted at the penguin suit. "Oh, you're good. Didn't even see that coming."
She smiled, looking particularly pleased with herself. "That was pretty smooth, wasn't it?" She flipped through the book again. "There's another one in here without a tie that you might like�"
"Whichever you want. This is your shindig."
Her bottom lip poked out. "It's your wedding, too."
"Yeh, but weddings have changed quite a bit since the days when I used to imagine mine. Really, whatever you want's fine. S'long as it's within budget."
The pages snapped as she turned them harder than necessary. "You could at least pretend to be excited�"
He threw down his book. "I am," he said, pulling her into his lap. "But I'm a bit more focused on the honeymoon."
That got an eye roll and a smile. "I'll bet." But she kissed him, slow and sweet, chaste enough for the public yet in no way designed to discourage his particular line of thought.
"So what do you think about Venice?" he asked when she finally let him up for air.
She wrinkled her nose. "Pretty, but I was thinking sunnier."
"We got sunny right here, Love."
"I know, but this is Ventura Beach sunny. I'm talking more like� Tahiti sunny."
"Tahiti!" Spike smiled.
"Oh, no. You have nostalgia face."
"Do not!"
Buffy sighed. "Is there anywhere on this planet that you haven't already been with Drusilla?"
"Sure. Lots of places."
"Name one."
"Um�"
"See?"
"Well, we were together a long time, what d'you expect? Anyway, it's not like all those memories are particularly good ones�"
Buffy looked contrite. "I know." She reached up to caress his cheek.
"Me an' you," he said, grabbing her hand, "we'll make good memories, yeh?" He pressed a kiss to her palm.
She smiled. "Yeah," she said, molding herself against him. "Starting now." Her lips brushed his as her arms wrapped around his neck. He held her to him, his hand unknotting her ponytail and tangling in her hair to better press her mouth to his.
She turned in his lap to deepen the kiss, making him gasp. He smirked at her. "How's that for excited?"
Giggling, she kissed him again.
"Damn," he muttered, looking around at the crowded beach as she worked her way down to his neck. "We should've picked a more secluded spot. Keep this up, Love, and we're gonna have to go back to the car."
"Even better," she said, getting up.
"What're you--" He grabbed her magazine and pulled it into his lap. "Buffy�"
She took her sunglasses off and tossed them onto the blanket. Then with a wink and an unbelievably hot and extremely unhelpful hip wiggle, she turned and ran for the surf.
"Hey! Buff--" He groaned. "Running's not really an option right now, Pet!"
She turned back to blow him a kiss before diving into the water.
"Bloody�"
Spike took a few deep breaths. Chucking the magazine, he got to his feet and charged the water, shouting his battle cry as he went. Buffy emerged from the water just in time to scream as he dove at her, knocking her back under the waves. They both came back up sputtering and laughing, a tangle of limbs letting the tide carry them back toward the beach. When the water became just shallow enough, Spike dug his hands and feet into the sand and held on as Buffy tugged both their swim suits out of the way and straddled him.
"Oh, fuck yeh!" he hollered as she lowered herself onto him.
"Shhh!" Laughing, she took his face in her hands and kissed him, rocking along with the tide. Anyone bothering to take notice of them would just see a couple of beach bunnies making out in the surf. Or so they hoped.
"God, you're a cunning vixen," he said, staring up at her in awe. "I love you."
She grinned, her fingers digging into his chest. "Thought it'd be a good idea. Just� unh� watch out for that jellyfish."
"Bloody hell!" Spike flailed, splashing water everywhere. Buffy shrieked with laughter as she hung on. She dug her heels in and stopped them from floating into too-shallow waters.
"Kidding," she said.
"Cheeky bint."
She bent down to nip his ear. "Love you," she whispered.
"Buffy�" He encircled her waist with his arm, pulling her closer so he could bury his face in her neck.
"Spike!" She moaned his name softly in his ear. "Spike�"
***
"Spike? Spike!"
"Huh?" He blinked as Fred waved her hand in front of his face. "Oh. Sorry. Musta zoned out."
"Are you okay?"
He shrugged. "Much as ever." Which wasn't much, these days.
Fred smiled apologetically. "That phone call took longer than I thought it would." She settled back in her chair. "So, you wanna know how I helped Willow seal the dimensional barriers?"
"Right. Yeh." He shifted in his chair and crossed his ankle over his knee. "Whatever you can tell me."
She looked uncertain. A little suspicious, even. Angel must've been blabbing his theory to everyone.
"It's for this report Wesley asked me to do. You can check with him if it'll make you feel better."
Fred giggled and waved her hand, but it didn't cover her nervousness. "Don't be silly! I don't need to verify--"

"Fred. It's all right."
She stopped, giving him a look of sympathy that was just one shade light of pity. Spike hated that look. "I'm sorry. It's just that Angel--"
"I know."
She folded her arms and leaned forward on her desk. "See, the thing is, there's not that much I can tell you. I mean, Willow and Mr. Giles did all the work�" Her mouth twisted into a little frown as she stared past him. "Poor Mr. Giles."
Spike looked down and fiddled with his bootlaces. "Yeh."
"Sorry." Fred straightened up. "Anyway, I helped Willow work out the physics behind what she needed to do, but I couldn't even begin to tell you what she did. Even after all this time, I don't know magic half as well as science."
"Right." Spike tapped his pen on his knee. "But you know something about portals."
Her eyes went wide. "Um�" She reached a hand out and unconsciously touched her desk drawer.
"You know. Pylea, all that."
"Oh, right." She nodded. Jesus, this girl was more readable than the Grauman's marquee. She shrugged. "But that was a whole different deal. Willow wasn't trying to create a passageway, she wanted to restore boundaries that should've already been there."
Spike nodded. "Right. Makes sense. So, do you remember--"
"Dr. Burkle?" A lab tech stuck his head in the office. "Uh, sorry. But we have a� um� well, there's slime."
"Slime?"
"You might wanna come take a look."
She looked at Spike. "Go on," he waved her away. "I can wait."
"This shouldn't take long. I hope." She followed the assistant out, shutting the door behind her.
"Right, then." Spike took a deep breath, then stood up. "Nothing like a convenient slime diversion." He went to the back of Fred's desk and tried the drawer she'd touched earlier. Locked. He plucked a paperclip off her desk, straightened it, and used it to jimmy the lock. Like riding a bicycle. The drawer popped open effortlessly. After a glance out the window to make sure nobody was coming, Spike rifled through her files.
He felt bad for resorting to this. Time was he could've just asked her for the info, but what with Angel putting them all on their guard� well, Spike was only doing what he had to do. He'd already gone through the archives and the library, as well as the files back at the hotel. He'd been about to give up when a look at the online inventory (under Angel's clearance code) had told him that Fred kept these records in her office. As he flipped through the row of manila folders, he silently thanked Wes for giving him a cover story, Fred for inadvertently pointing him to the right drawer, and Inept Lab Boy for creating a diversion. He felt a little heartened by how it all fell into place. Perhaps fate was on his side, after all. Not like anybody else was.
"Bingo," he said as he fingered a file folder marked "Portals." He pulled it out and went through it as he sat in Fred's chair. Bunch of physics notes and equations� those wouldn't help him, not without a Fred to translate. Some stuff about Pylea� a-ha! An annotated bibliography listing all of the books that could open portals from this dimension. No doubt they were under lock and key somewhere, but at least now he'd know what he was looking for.
Voices approached outside. Spike slipped the folder back in its slot, slammed the drawer, and tucked the bibliography into the back of his waistband. As the door opened, he hurried over to meet it.
"Oh!" Fred started when she saw him standing there. "Are you leaving?"
"Yeh, looks like you've got your hands full. I can get this later."
"Are you sure? We've got it under control out there, and I've got some time�"
Spike looked at his watch and shook his head. "Got a meeting."
"Oh. Okay. Sorry about that. Maybe if I think of anything else I can e-mail it to you?"
"Right, sure. That'll work. Thanks, ducks."
Fred smiled. "Sure. Bye!" She waved as he left her office and made his way out of the lab.
Mission accomplished. Now he just needed to figure out which of these books might prove the most useful, and how the hell to get it. 'Course, then he'd have to know how to use it. There was one more person he needed to talk to. Now that he could, there was no sense in putting it off any longer.
He got to the elevator and pushed the call button. The doors slid open. Angel stepped partway out and put his hand on the door to hold it open. "Put 'em back."
"What 'em what, now?"
"I saw you. Fred's got a security camera in her office. Go put back the files you stole."
"Sorry, Pops. Didn't have what I was looking for." That was a gamble. Could be Angel came running as soon as he saw Spike picking the lock and missed what followed.
"Bull. Look, if it makes you feel better you can give them to me. Fred doesn't have to know you were the one who took them."
Spike shrugged and shook his head. "Don't know what you're on about."
"You want me to call security?"
Spike laughed. "You wouldn't."
"Don't try me, boy."
"Try you? How 'bout I try them. I've seen your security, I'm pretty sure I can take 'em." Spike pushed past Angel into the elevator.
Angel sighed. "Damn it, Spike. Why do you have to make everything so hard?"
"Me? You're the one making threats and talking down. All I'm doing is trying to get to my office unmolested."
"You're not gonna find those books."
"Whatever you say, Angelus. Do us a favor and hit my floor?"
Angel stepped back inside the elevator, letting the doors close. He hit the stop button instead. "Can't you see that I'm only trying to help you?"
"Funny. Your helping looks a lot like hindering to me."
"I'm trying to protect you from yourself. Same as always."
Spike looked at him sideways. "Always?"
"You're too reckless for your own good." Angel paced the elevator. "Or for the good of those around you. Human or not, that hasn't changed. At least Buffy tempered that."
"So, what? In her absence, you're naming yourself my Watcher?"
Angel stopped pacing and whirled on him. "No, Spike, I'm your boss. Not to mention the closest living thing to actual family you've got. Believe it or not, I don't want to see you get hurt. More."
Spike blinked. "Oh, I see." He nodded. "Touching, really. And here I thought you just weren't beating me on account of me being stronger and faster."
Angel's fists clenched. "Gotta admit, that enters in." Shaking his head, he slumped against the wall beside Spike. "Y'know, you'd think after all this time we would have learned how to have a civilized conversation."
"Heh. Guess me an' you always did communicate best when one of us was swinging a two-by-four."
"Or a crowbar."
Spike grinned. "Good times."
Angel chuckled beside him before shoving his hands in his pockets and turning serious. "It's too late for her. You know that, deep down. You just don't want to admit it."
"I know no such thing."
"You also know that if the tables were turned," Angel looked at him, "she'd leave you there."
"Would she, now?"
Angel shrugged. "She left me there."
"Oh-ho!" Spike walked to the center of the elevator and turned to study Angel, as if understanding him for the first time. "That's what this is about?"
"No, you idiot, this is about Acathla all over again! Buffy did what she had to do, to save the world. She doesn't expect any less from you. Or from me. And the risks involved in getting her back -- if she's even still alive, which she can't be -- are too great. She understood that."
"You really think I'm stupid enough not to weigh all the risks?"
"I think you don't know when to quit."
Spike laughed. "Says the sodding Champion of Giving Up."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, come off it. We both know I never would've been with Buffy in the first place if you'd fought for her instead of walking away."
"That was for her own good."
"Right. Yeh. And what about when I showed up here, sporting your Shanshu and your ex-girl's affections? Oh, sure, you gave it the ol' college try. All those days of research. It only took you, what, a week? To lie down, roll over and accept that the reward you'd been working years for had been lost to you."
"It's called selflessness. You might try it some time. It carries its own rewards."
Spike shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a right selfish bastard." He looked Angel up and down, then shook his head. "Y'know, the old Angelus would cross international borders -- hell, oceans to dog his prey. But you? I bloody well wouldn't be human now if I followed your example." He turned around to start the elevator and push his floor.
Behind him, Angel sighed. "The Powers chose you to be their Champion--"
"No." Spike didn't turn around. He stared straight ahead at the seam in the lift doors. "Buffy chose me to be her champion. I've never pretended to be anything else."
The doors opened. Spike stepped into the hall and pivoted toward his office. He held his breath until he heard the lift close behind him, but it wasn't until he reached his door that he chanced a look back to make sure Angel hadn't followed. "Proves my bloody point," he muttered as he let himself inside.
He didn't bother turning on the lights. He wasn't staying long. Maybe the darkness would bugger Angel's spy cameras. He slipped the papers from his jeans as he crossed to his desk, underneath which was stashed a duffle bag with enough clothes to get him through the weekend. He tucked the file inside and zipped it up, then leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a minute.
A minute was long enough. That was all it took for that niggling little voice to make itself heard, the one that said Angel might be right. That maybe he should leave well enough alone, get his grieving done and get on with his life.
His life. The one he'd only ever wanted for her sake. That was a laugh. Buffy was his life. Without her... hell, he might as well be a vampire again for all the coldness he felt inside.
"This how it was for you, Pet? After you were brought back that last time?" He wouldn't let it be like that for her again. Not this time.
Before he could talk himself out of it, Spike picked up the phone and dialed.
"City?" asked the voice at the other end.
"San Francisco. Need an address for Willow Rosenberg."
***
Willow sipped her warm Coke, then grimaced as she set the can back down. She looked back at the screen where all of her code was beginning to run together and bleed into one big blur. Rubbing her eyes didn't help. They stung, and her pinkies on both hands were numb, and it was Friday night in the big city and why, exactly, was she sitting at home doing unpaid work instead of out making new friends?
With a sigh, she shoved back from her desk and wondered what her old friends were doing. Maybe she could call Xander. Oh, except, he was going to visit Dawn this weekend. She could call Dawnie, maybe catch them both. Except that the odds of them hanging out in her dorm room instead of going out to do something were kinda slim. Willow let out a small whimper as she scooted back up to the keyboard and opened up her instant messenger. Before she could sign on, someone knocked on her door.
"Hello?" she called out, crossing the room.
"Shalom, Red," a deep, British-accented voice called back.
Willow stopped in her tracks. Okay, that was unexpected. Even so, she grinned and went to the door, then tried to look stern as she pulled it open. "You know, if I never hear any Hebrew again as long as I live, I'll really be okay with that."
Spike smiled. "Had a bit too much in the way of heritage, eh?"
"Oy," she said, rolling her eyes. Then she smiled and greeted him with a hug. He responded with a slightly awkward pat on the back before she broke it off and pulled him inside. "So, how ya doing?" She knew it was a stupid question before she asked it. With the first anniversary coming up� she didn't have to see how bad he looked, or how much pain was etched on his face to know that he wasn't doing good at all.
He smiled, a little ruefully, and shrugged. "You know."
"Yeah."
This whole suffering in silence thing was kinda new to Spike. A byproduct of the soul, Willow figured. She still found it a little weird. She remembered her first real encounter with him, after Drusilla had broken up with him. Even as he'd threatened her and Xander's lives to force Willow to do a love spell for him, he'd ranted and raved about the injustice of it all and cried his heart out on her shoulder. He'd complained endlessly about the chip and all of the indignities it had brought him. And then when� after the last time, he'd tried to talk to them all at first, about his grief. He'd only stopped when he'd found them to be pretty unsympathetic listeners, all of them caught up in their own mourning and not really wanting to believe how much a soulless vampire had loved their friend. All of them but Dawn, anyway.
Willow was determined that this time, he'd have someone to talk to. Someone who really did know. She waved at the room. "Have a seat," she told him, keeping her tone bright. "Beanbag or lawn chair, your pick. I, uh, haven't really had time to shop for furniture yet." As he settled into the plastic lawn chair, she headed for the kitchen. "Can I get you anything? I've got Coke, or water, or�" she peered into the fridge. "Ooh! Forgot about those."
"Nothing for me, thanks," Spike called. "This isn't really a social call."
"Kinda figured," said Willow, gathering up the bottled Mudslides and Rum & Cokes left over from when Xander helped her move in.
"What, Angel already got to you, too?" His voice was equal parts anger, irritation, and bitterness. It made her cringe.
"What? No." She carried the drinks into the living room and lined them up on the coffee table. "It's just that, you've never shown up at my place unless you needed something."
"Oh." Spike had the decency to look sheepish. "Yeh, but, I mean�"
"It's okay." Willow chose a Mudslide for herself and settled into the beanbag. "I know you still think of us as Buffy's friends. But I just want you to know that we're here for you. You know. If you need us."
Spike nodded. "'Preciate that."
"So, what's up?"
For the first time, Willow noticed the bag Spike had carried in as he bent to unzip it. He pulled out a small stack of paper and laid it on the coffee table. "What can you tell me about these books?"
She leaned forward to pick it up, then leafed through the bibliography. "I can tell you that this is the kind of stuff Giles would've kept locked in his safe instead of just hidden on the high shelves."
"Serious mojo, eh?"
"Let's just say, it's a good thing we didn't have any of these around that time I went all crazy and wanted to destroy the world." She frowned. "Say, you're not going all crazy and wanting to destroy the world, are ya?"
He raked a hand through his hair. "Can't vouch for my sanity, but I can assure you I'm trying to avoid that last bit."
"But I take it you're not asking about these out of idle curiosity."
Spike did his best to look innocent. That look just never worked on him. "I'm working on this report for Wesley, see�"
Willow put on her knowing face.
Leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, Spike let out a long sigh. "Do us both a favor and spare me the lecture, all right? That's the only kind of sodding 'help' anybody's been willing to give me. I don't need it from you, too."
Willow took a drink, then shook her head. "Not gonna lecture. I mean, I probably should, but that would just make me a big ol' hypocrite." She took another sip while she waited for that to sink in.
Gradually, it did. Spike slowly raised his narrowed eyes to meet hers. "What did you do?"
She started to pick at the label on her bottle, concentrating on that as she spoke. "Xander thinks I went off to deal with my grief, and find myself or whatever."
"That wasn't it?"
Willow shrugged. "That was part of it, I guess. But, really, I was kinda running away. You know. From� from temptation." She glanced up at him for a second, long enough to see understanding dawn, then went back to work on the label.
"You wanted to bring her back."
"Not just Buffy. All of them. Giles, Faith� Kennedy. Everybody. I wanted to find a way to undo it." Her vision started to blur, and she felt her nose run. She took another long drink. Swell. Here she was gonna be Spike's rock, all supportive and understanding, and instead she was falling apart and crying on his shoulder. Metaphorically, at least. But she'd never told anybody. She tried to tell Xander once, but� didn't. She knew Spike would understand. And if he didn't, at least he wouldn't judge, or get that look on his face like he was struggling not to judge. "They were all mystical deaths, see, and�" A choked sob forced its way out. "I killed Giles!"
Spike gave her a hard look. When he spoke, his voice matched. "No. You didn't."
Willow shook her head. She looked up at the ceiling and blinked, but she couldn't stop her tears. "I did. You weren't there. You didn't see. I sucked the life right out of him, Spike. Like I was some kind of� energy vampire. I needed more power, and I didn't ask. I just took and� and then he was gone!"
She used her shirt to wipe her face. Spike got up, and for a second she thought he might leave, but instead he went to the kitchen. He brought her back a box of tissues.
"Giles knew what he was doing," Spike told her as she got herself under control. "He knew the deal going in. It wasn't your fault, Pet."
"Oh yeah? I bet people tell you the same thing about Buffy. Does it make you feel any better?"
When he didn't answer, she looked up. The stricken look on his face almost made her forget her own grief. "Oh� oh God, Spike, I didn't mean--"
He shoved the box of tissues at her and stalked off toward the door.
"I'm sorry."
He stopped and turned, his hands rubbing his face. They dropped to his sides as he started to pace. "Okay, so you took off before temptation could get the better of you. It's all right. I'm not asking you to try any magic or to get involved in the spell. I just need information--"
"That's what I'm trying to tell you. I did try."
"You� tried what, exactly?"
Willow settled back into her beanbag, clutching her bottle to her chest, and waited for Spike to sit back down. She couldn't take his pacing. When he took the hint, she took another swig, then went on. "I figured the kibbutz was gonna be all hard work and scripture study. But the temple had this huge library, and you know I spent a lot of time in there." She smiled a little, but Spike was too focused on his clasped hands to notice. "Anyway, they had this whole section full of Kabbalah texts? Some of them were originals. This one book had the spell that Rabbi Loew used to raise the Golem--"
"Topic, Red."
"Right. So, I found one of these books in there." She picked up the bibliography and shuffled through it. "This one," she said, pointing it out to Spike. "Passage to Sheol? That's sorta like a Jewish Purgatory, but it's really more of a blanket name for the afterlife, 'cause Judaism doesn't really have a concept of heaven or hell. But I think this opens up to heaven and hell dimensions." She handed him the list.
"What do you mean, you 'think'?"
"Well, that's the best sense I could make of it!" She realized she sounded defensive, but was just slightly too tipsy to care.
"Thought you said you tried."
"I did. I snuck the book out and took it with me into the desert, and I tried to open a portal."
"What happened?"
"Nothing."
Spike's shoulders slumped a little. "Didn't do it right, eh?"
"No, I mean nothing happened. The book is, is dead. There's no magic left, in it, or� or anywhere else. I couldn't� I can't feel any� there's nothing to connect to anymore�" She shook her head. "It's all gone, Spike. It's really, really gone."

He just stared at her for a minute. Then he shook his head. "No. You must've said it wrong, missed something in the ritual or--"
"I didn't get it wrong. The problem is that the last spell I did, I did right. And now I�" She sighed. "I can't even float a pencil."
He swallowed, hard, and looked at the floor. "You're sure?"
"Yes. I'm sorry."
Without lifting his head, he muttered a curse under his breath. "This was� you were my last hope."
"I know."
He lifted his head, but he still didn't look at her. Even so, she could see his eyes misting over. His nostrils flared and the muscles in his jaw worked as he fought for control. Willow set down her empty bottle and picked up another Mudslide. She set the box of tissues on the coffee table, within Spike's reach, then made sure to focus on her drink instead of him.
Finally, he leaned forward and picked up a Rum & Coke. He held the bottle in his hand for a minute and contemplated it, as if coming to a decision. Then he twisted off the cap and raised it up over the table. Willow straightened up and did the same.
"To Buffy," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Willow smiled. "To Buffy." She clinked her bottle against his, then sat back and took a long draught.
They both drank in silence for a while.

~*~

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Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground

Dead Leaves & the Dirty Ground