Summary: Ever wonder what happened to the baby that Spike saved from the Fell brethren?
Notes: written for the spuffy kink ficathon for pfeifferpack
Angel didn't say a word. He didn't have to. Just that look in his eyes - the pity they held - was sickening. Spike stormed after Buffy. It was stupid… the stupidest thing he could do, but he just had to talk to her. Where the hell did she get off kissing him and then running off like that, again. He wasn't that obedient wretch who just watched her leave anymore. Not her lapdog. And he was sick and tired of being used.
Angel tried to stop him. "Leave her some peace, give her a second to think." But when had he ever listened to a word Angel said? He wasn't going to start now.
Spike slammed the door open, noticing her lying on the bed, crying. Was he really so bad that she was still ashamed of kissing him?
"Get out. Get out! Get out!!!"
He didn't. That trick had long stopped working when Dawn used it, or when Wes was angry because Spike would force him to eat his Brussels sprouts, so why would it work for Buffy? Well, besides the fact that she also threw a chair, a lamp, and a pillow at him. He ducked and grabbed Buffy’s hand, looming over her. Seeing the scared look on her face - feeling her tremble under him - he skittered to the other side of the room before she could say another word.
"I'm sorry," Spike whispered.
She laughed, hysterically. Mocking him. Spike grabbed at the door, ready to run out. Not here to be her laughing stock. Not now.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean… I'm sorry." She said the words in between giggles, incapable of stopping, crying as she shook with emotion.
He just growled.
"I am sorry, Spike." Buffy finally tamped down her hysteria. "It's just... you apologizing, while I hit you, again. I'm so sorry."
And that came with a huh and a what the hell? "I do remember hitting you too you know."
"Yeah, but I hit first. I always do where we're concerned, don't I? I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it."
He shrugged. "Water under the bridge, over it, whatever."
Buffy shook her head. "No, Spike. It's not that simple. I shouldn't be like that, and you shouldn't let me."
"Didn't look to me like I was ..."
She smiled sadly. "I should be better than that, more grown up. So just accept the stupid apology already."
"Always," he murmured, sitting down on the bed next to her, not touching her, not invading her space. Her hand brushed his and it hurt somehow being this close, almost like they were friends.
"So what's up with the kid? Why does he matter so much to you, and what the hell am I missing that would make Giles think you'd take the boy?"
He stared at her when she finally came up for a breath. "You don't know?"
"Do I look like I know? ‘Cause I don't, know that is. What's going on, Spike? Why does this kid matter so much to you and what am I missing here? Besides everything."
Spike stared at his hands, then at her, realizing she was telling the truth and a weight lifted from his shoulders as he told her about the boy. How he'd saved him, raised him and lost him.
“So you're really here to help?” He couldn’t help the shiver that crept into his voice and Buffy hugged him for comfort.
“Yes,” she said softly.
"And you came all the way over from Rome for that."
"Even though you don't know the situation, nobody informed you of what was going on and you accidentally stepped into a minefield because someone, say Giles, took the warning signs away."
"Guess I needed something to keep busy."
"You're a stupid bint.”
She almost hit him again. "I guess I am," she finally smiled "cause
I still love you."