Spike entered the house behind Will the next evening after returning from Club 911. He still couldn't get over the miracle that had occurred the previous night. When he saw the emotions flickering in her normally dead eyes, he was ecstatic. He hadn't been that happy in a long time, not since the early days with Drusilla.
"You know, Will. One of these days we'll have to ride together to the club. It's bloody ridiculous to go separately when we both end up back at the same place," Spike said, taking off his long duster and hanging it in the closet. He accepted Will's black, leather jacket and hung it as well.
Will didn't answer him, of course. She instead walked over to her computer and logged onto the Internet. He frowned at her action, then went and made himself busy rearranging the entertainment collection.
A few hours later, it was time for him to leave. He walked over to the redhead seated at the computer desk. "I'm leaving now. I'll see you tomorrow."
As he turned, Will's hand shot out and grasped his forearm. Surprised, he looked down into the perpetually expressionless face. Her eyes, however, reflected nervousness and a hint of shyness. She grabbed a pen from the pink coffee mug on the desk and jotted a brief note on a green post-it. After handing it to him, she turned back to her computer once more. Curious, he read the tiny, printed letters.
Meet here tomorrow instead.
Spike pulled his black DeSoto into the driveway of the ranch house. He crushed out his cigarette and exited the car. It was the time he normally had to leave to get to Club 911 after a quick bite to eat. Chinese was on the menu earlier this evening.
With a slight skip to his step, he walked up to the front door and used his key to enter. Will always kept it locked, no matter what. Grinning like an idiot, he bellowed, "Lucy, I'm
home!" in a horrendous Cuban accent.
Will exited the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. She was wearing the red body suit again, the one he'd first seen her in, with the black knee and elbow pads. She walked right up to him, her eyes alight with mischief, and kissed him on the cheek.
Surprised, it was all he could do not to fall back against the door.
She took his arm and led him over to the couch. With a motion to sit, she turned and went back into the kitchen.
Spike's sharp mind worked furiously. This was the first time she had shown any type of humor. Actually, any type of forwardness at all. It was inconceivable that a vampire such as himself could get such a playful reaction from a human...well, almost human. He thought about the line from one of his favorite movies: "I do not think that word means what you think it means." He chuckled.
Will returned from the kitchen with a large box in her arms. She stopped directly in front of Spike and held it out to him, her expressionless face tilted to the floor.
"For me?" Spike asked, reaching out for the box at her nod. It was a plain, brown box with a UPS label attached to the top addressed to Will. He retrieved a pocket knife and split the tape, then opened the flaps. Reaching inside, he pulled out a bubble-wrapped object.
He set the now empty box aside. She was still staring at the floor. He unwrapped the object and glanced up at her in shock.
It was a black motorcycle helmet.
When he'd suggested that they travel together to the club, he assumed they'd use his car. Instead, she'd gone and bought him a helmet. With a large smile, he stood and folded the muscular young woman into his arms. "I always wanted to ride on that bike of yours," he said. "Thank you."
And once again, she smiled, the corners of her mouth tilting ever so slightly.
Spike leaned with Will on the turn. They had been riding together for two months and he still couldn't get over the fact that he, William the Bloody, master vampire, killer of two Slayers, was riding behind a woman half his size. And was thoroughly enjoying it.
They were on their way back to her house from another night at Club 911. He was an official regular, whose face everyone knew. He knew all the gossip and other facts about the club and its patrons, yet he never once shared what he'd learned about Will.
That she was a survivor. That she was an Immortal. That she was his.
The last thought came unbidden to Spike, as they pulled next to the garage. He knew that he had feelings for the redhead. He was curious about her, wanted to help her, wanted to heal her as he did Drusilla long ago. But he never thought of her in at his. Until now.
Following the object of his thoughts, he closed and locked the front door behind him. She handed him her jacket, then went into the kitchen for a bottle of water. He hung the two coats up in the closet and walked over to the stereo. Selecting a CD, he slipped it in the changer and pressed play. The quiet strains of country music filled the air.
Will soon joined him in the living room. As she sat on the couch, Spike noticed she looked more weary than usual. "Why don't you go to bed, Pet?" he suggested. "You're looking awfully run down. I'll stay around for awhile until you fall asleep. It will give me a chance to check my e-mail. It's hard to believe, vampires connected by the world wide web. Bloody silly, if you ask me."
Her weary eyes twinkled in amusement, which looked very strange on her stoic face. She patted his knee, stood and went down the hall. He could hear the door to her bedroom close.
He stood and went over to her computer. He practically had to beg to for Will to let him use it, which was something he was not accustomed to doing. Only after promising on his undead life not to hurt her precious machine did she allow him to use it.
Spike logged on and checked his e-mail. Trick's successors were setting up another hit on the Slayer, who resided here in Sunnydale. The second Slayer had moved to New York and another Hellmouth. He had managed to avoid the girl so far, hunting on the outskirts of town. He'd heard that she was pretty good, but not nearly as good as Buffy had been, according to the updates he received from the Watcher's Council. He found it amusing that he was still on their mailing list under an assumed name, having added it soon after Drusilla had gone. Sometimes, he would alert the Watchers as to what the vampires were planning, just for fun.
He logged off and went through the folders to find his favorite game, Quake LX. When a calendar-like book with today's date appeared on the screen, he frowned, knowing he hit something in error. His eyes quickly scanned the single sentence on the page.
Blinking in shock, Spike couldn't believe what he'd just read. He looked at the page again, but the words did not change. Moving the mouse, he aligned the cursor to go back a page.
Back another page.
Chills running down his spine, Spike moved the cursor to the small calendars on the left side of the screen. He choose a date from the past at random.
And once more.
Spike had found Will's computer journal. He'd only been able to come to that conclusion by going back to the dates he was last in Sunnydale. Those entries had been full of life and rich with description.
But one day, the entries changed. One minute, he was reading about some story Oz had told her about French monkeys, the next...
He rubbed his arms unconsciously, trying to get his normally cold skin to warm. Goosebumps rose on his skin in reaction to the chill that seeped into his bones. He was looking at the day she died.
Spike left the note propped up against the monitor.
I swear, by the moon and the stars in the sky,
I'll be there.
I swear, like a shadow by your side,
I'll be there.