disclaimer on first part
"Wait!" Spike hissed. "I think it might be better to stay with Giles and Xander!"
"Fine!" Buffy snapped. "You do that; I'll meet you back here later!"
She floated out; and Spike was left feeling strangely bereft.
He tried to convince himself that he didn't miss her. "Not so bad...can put off things a bit longer. Mary Bloody Morgan...Dru used to call her Bloody Mary. At least she did at first. Until...That's going to be one hell of a showdown, that is. All the better to put it off."
But it didn't work. He didn't much fancy admitting it; but he'd been more pleased than not to discover he was a ghost. He'd been certain he was instantly doomed to eternal hellfire.
Instead, he was still around, in a manner of speaking. And still with the Slayer. Two sources of contentment- though he quaked at the thought of the explanations she was going to demand.
Xander and Giles finally were ready to leave; but Spike decided not to follow them, reminding himself that Buffy would be turning up.
He waited impatiently as the clock ticked away the hours.
The thought slid insidiously into his mind- what if she didn't come back?
What if she'd been so disgusted by what she'd heard that she decided she was better off without him?
Her fingers brushed across the back of his neck; he yowled, jumping nearly a foot.
"Stop that!"
Buffy looked at him strangely. "Relax, it's only me."
He said grumpily, "It's about time! I've been hanging around this place for hours!"
"It hasn't been that long," Buffy protested.
He opened his mouth to tell her that it had seemed an eternity; then shut it when he realized how needy he would sound.
"Guess what?" she burbled. "Willow and Amy live together, in Amy's old home at the edge of town. She inherited it when her father died. It's a regular witches' wonder in there! And they bought the magic shop in town; they have a mail-order business all over the world."
"That's fine. But it has what, exactly, to do with Mary Sodding Morgan?" Spike snapped, exasperated.
Seconds later, he understood he'd made a major error.
Buffy narrowed her eyes at him. "Fine, Spike, let's talk about Morgan."
"Um, did you know Xander has been Giles' assistant for a decade?" Frantically Spike tried to buy time.
It didn't work.
"So Morgan was one of the Slayers you fought," Buffy said accusingly.
Spike swallowed hard, but there was no hope for it.
"It was a fair fight, Summers," he insisted. "She'd been tracking Drusilla; and would have staked her if I hadn't..."
With frightening clarity the scene was vivid in his mind...Morgan down, bleeding from his bite, but he'd done no more than mark her for his kill.
Dru's childlike treble, "Mayn't I have her, Spike? Miss Edith wants to play!"
He shook his head, and Dru's dark eyes had shone with tears. She began to whimper.
"All right, ducks," he said hastily. "Just for a little while; and then call me and I'll kill her. It's best that way."
But Drusilla never saw the larger picture; she only knew how much she liked the taste of the Slayer's blood. She'd gone ahead and turned Mary Morgan, not grasping that a turned Slayer was...
"Powerful," Buffy supplied. "How badly did she hurt Drusilla?"
"Almost killed her," Spike muttered. "But I managed to save her..." His voice trailed off.
Buffy nodded; and said no more.
He stood it as long as he could.
"Buffy?"
He hardly ever used her name; it made her look at him.
"I'm sorry."
Her jaw dropped. "Sorry? Sorry for what? Sorry you fought her; or sorry you made a gift of her to your loony girlfriend?"
He met her eyes defiantly. "Both. But this is true- Mary Morgan came after us. We were broke, up against it; couldn't afford her protection money."
Spike laughed harshly at the shocked expression on Buffy's face. "What- you think all Slayers are incorruptible? Mary Morgan had quite a nice racket going; lived pretty well off the vampires and demons who could afford her blood money! Besides, " he glanced away deliberately, "I've always been afraid to die."
The admission hung between them. Her expression softened slightly.
"And is it as bad as you thought?"
Spike shook his head ruefully. "Takes some getting used to, pet, but I'll adapt."
He cringed as the word left his mouth- first he'd called her Buffy, and now 'pet.' What was the matter with him?
But she gave him her little half-smile. "We may as well spend what's left of the night here. That couch looks like a comfy place to sleep."
"Sleep?" Spike was startled. "Since when do ghosts need to sleep?" Even as he spoke, he realized that he did feel tired.
Buffy shrugged. "I'm sleepy; I guess we need to rest sometimes, anyway."
She settled herself on Giles' green-patterned couch, and patted the edge. "Want half?"
"That isn't half," he argued. "More like a bloody third!"
She gave an exaggerrated sigh and slid over a couple of inches. "There!"
Spike took off his leather duster and used it to cover them.
"Good thing I had my coat on when I was killed," he said thoughtlessly, then flinched. The last thing he wanted was to start her asking questions about how he'd gotten killed.
But she was already almost asleep. "Mmmm, I'm glad they buried me in this white dress; it's absolutely gorgeous!"
He smiled; no matter what befell her, she was still so essentially feminine.
They fell asleep in one another's arms.
Xander woke them early when he unlocked the office door.
"He looks so unhappy," Buffy said softly, watching her friend.
To Spike, Xander didn't look unhappy as much as grim.
"Oh Xand," Buffy cried out, "I wish I could help you!"
Xander stopped, staring hard in their direction.
"Think he sees us, pet? " Spike asked,scarcely daring to move.
"I...I don't think so," Buffy's voice was uncertain. "Whistler said it would take practice, and we haven't practiced."
But Xander continued to stare for one long slow moment. Then, almost reluctantly, he turned and left.
"Close call," Spike remarked.
Then he saw Buffy, eyes closed, tiny hands clenched.
"What the bloody..."
"Shh, don't interrupt my concentration. I'm trying to materialize!"
"What for?" Spike flopped back onto the couch, grinning lazily. "You could give your mates a scare; that might be fun, but with my luck, your Watcher would do an exorcism on me."
"But Spike, Whistler said in time we could actually become corporeal! We could talk to people."
Spike yawned. "I don't want to talk to those blighters."
"We could feel the fresh air and sunshine," Buffy added.
Spike was unimpressed. "I've gone over a century without sunshine, and I don't fancy I'll miss it now."
"We could take a shower! "
"Pet, we're ghosts, we don't get dir...wait, did you say shower?"
Buffy beamed at him. "Wouldn't that feel good?"
Now that Spike thought about it, a shower would be a pleasure, even for a ghost. Esecially if he got to share one with her.
He sternly ordered his mind back on track. He'd come too far, been through too much, to be distracted by a little thing like seeing the Slayer naked.
NAKED?
Did that mean, could it mean, that while they were corporeal they could SHAG?
Not that she ever would.
And even if she would, it wouldn't be with another vampire.
And even if it was, it wouldn't be with him.
Still....
"You're right, pet! We need to practice!"
She smiled in delight at having won her point; and at the end of another hour they were pleased to find they could each achieve a silvery outline.
"Which," Spike pointed out, "nobody could tell for bloody certain was us!"
Buffy laughed happily. "But we're making progress. Next we have to try to make ourselves heard. What if we try rapping on the table or something?"
"Sounds like it belongs in a third-rate horror show," Spike complained. "House on Haunted Hill or something."
"Well, I'm going to try it." Buffy insisted.
Spike suggested she try it in a less isolated part of the museum; and they drifted through the wall and floated down the stairs.
"This place looks great," Buffy said, admiring the displays. "Giles really fixed things up."
"From what I was able to gather, pet, it was Xander who did most of it. Giles is utterly absorbed in his demon research these days. It's Xander who does the grunt work."
"I hope he has something in his life other than work," Buffy sighed.
"Why's that, luv?" Spike could have kicked himself the moment the words left his mouth. Bad enough he'd taken to calling her 'pet' but 'luv'?
But she was still fretting over Xander. "Because I don't want him to be alone. I don't want anyone to be alone. Willow and Amy have each other. And Wesley, Cordelia, and Angel have made...a sort of family, in a way."
I remember, Spike thought somberly. Once upon a time it was Angel and me, and a dark-haired enchantress who talked to dolls and sang to the moon.
But he knew he no longer missed Drusilla; and sometimes he wondered if he ever had. Or was it just as Buffy said- that more than anything, more than dying, Spike had feared loneliness?