These Colors Without Names 1/2

Print Friendly, PDF & Email

Title: These Colors Without Names
Rating: Hard R for sexual situations
Pairing/Characters: Spike/Buffy, mention of Giles/Jenny
Summary: Angry with Giles after his attempt to kill Spike, Buffy takes off in a desperate effort to find Spike. Along the way, Buffy discovers that her feelings about Spike have changed – changed enough to destroy her entire outlook on life and love.
Spoilers: Everything before season 7 and up until Lies My Parents Told Me.
A/N: So, I originally planned this story out during my Anthropology lecture instead of taking notes for my midterm. Of course, I decided to delete the entire story from my computer last night and go with a different idea I had brewing. :coughs: So, please forgive me if anyone is OOC or anything and if there are any mistakes. Also, the title, as well as the lyrics below, are from the Jimi Hendrix song “Love or Confusion”. 

Will it burn me if I touch the sun,
So big, so round?
Will I be truthful, yeah,
In choosing you as the one for me?

Is this love baby,
Or is it confusion?

She never thought it would come to this.

Not once in her mind had she imagined that she would choose Spike over everyone else – over Giles, her friends, her family.

Buffy rested against her bedroom door, her eyes closed. Oh Giles, how could you? I didn’t expect you to do this to me. God, how could you?

She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream and sob and curl up in a ball and forget everything around her. She wanted to run far away, leaving all her problems in the dust behind her. For once, she wanted to forget Sunnydale and her calling. Wanted to forget that she was the Slayer and that she had to be strong, be a leader. Most of all, Buffy wanted to be able to cry again. There was some part of her, deep inside her heart, that believed she had forgotten how to cry. That somewhere along the way her supply of tears had dried up, leaving her hollow and unemotional.

Buffy slid to the floor and buried her head in her hands. “Oh God. I can’t deal with this. Not now. Please, not now.”

She couldn’t wrap her mind around what had happened. She couldn’t even begin to understand why Giles had tried to kill Spike. She knew Wood’s reason, but Giles? She had trusted him and he had gone behind her back and broken that frail bond of trust. So many people had broken that trust, and she couldn’t – didn’t – want to believe that Giles had been added to the list.

She sighed angrily and ran her hands through her hair. She knew that she couldn’t face any of her friend at the moment. Truthfully, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to. She knew what they would say and how they would look at her. How they would condemn her with silent, reproachful eyes.

A tentative knock at the door drew her out of her thoughts. “Buffy?”

“Dawn, go away. Please.”

She felt Dawn start to open the door and Buffy sighed, getting up from her position on the floor. She turned to look at Dawn, her arms crossed. “I thought I told you to go away.”

“And you actually thought I would listen?”

Buffy snorted and watched Dawn make herself comfortable on the bed. “Buffy, you know that Giles had a reason for what he did.”

“Stop.” Buffy held up her hand, her eyes flashing. “If you came up here to defend Giles, I don’t want to hear it. I already told him what I thought about his little stunt.”

Dawn sighed, irritated. “That wasn’t what I was going to say. Geez, Buffy.” She cleared her throat, brushing her hair behind her ears. “I was going to say that maybe what Giles did wasn’t the best way to get through to you. You have to understand what he’s going through at the moment.”

“Well, maybe he should try and understand what I’m going through,” Buffy said, shaking her head, angrily. What he’s going through? He’s not the one leading an army of teenage girls. “And while he’s at it, maybe he should try and understand my reasons for wanting to keep Spike alive.”

Spike. It hit her then that she hadn’t even stopped to think about him. She didn’t know where he had gone after leaving Wood’s or even if he was injured. The fury she had felt at Wood and Giles had completely consumed every part of her brain, and she had forgotten to even think about Spike. A sudden rush of panic overwhelmed her and she turned to Dawn, her eyes wild.

“Oh God. Spike. Dawn, I have to go. I have to find him.”

She grabbed her coat and darted out the door, ignoring Dawn’s yell of protest. She rushed down the stairs only to collide directly into Giles. Buffy straitened herself, stepping away from him coolly. She heard Dawn coming down the stairs, trying to talk her out of chasing after Spike.

“Buffy, please think this out. You don’t even know where he went. For all you know, he could have left town or something.”

“Dawn, not now!”

“You’re going to find Spike, I take it?”

Buffy stiffened at the sound of Giles’ voice. She momentarily wondered when he had turned so bitter and resentful. Glancing away from the angry, tense lines of his face, Buffy listened to the hushed voices of Xander, Willow, and Anya who had appeared in the doorway. Well aware that they, and the Potentials behind them, were observing her every word, Buffy chose her words carefully.

“Yes. I am, not that it’s any concern of yours.”

“It is my concern Buffy. You know that.”

“No.” She shook her head. “It isn’t.”

Giles sighed. “Buffy, you must understand…”

“No Giles, you have to understand. I told you that I have nothing left to say to you. Can we leave it at that?”

“No we bloody well cannot!”

Buffy tried not to flinch at the anger in his voice. She had only heard him yell like that once – when she refused to believe that she had to kill Dawn in order to stop Glory. She wasn’t going to back down this time, though. She was going to stand up and refuse to let him control her life, something she should have done years ago.

Buffy glared at Giles, challenging his angry gaze, and moved around him, heading for the door.

“Buffy, he’s a vampire.”

“I’m well aware of that Giles. Anything else you need to share?”

Buffy ignored the intake of breath coming from the direction where Willow and Xander were standing. She knew that her tone was harsh and that her attitude resembled Dawn during a temper tantrum, but she didn’t care. She was sick of being questioned over each decision she made.

“Yes, actually. You know he’s not safe. That he could kill each and every one of us in our sleep if he wanted to.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Spike wouldn’t do that. He has a soul.”

Giles snorted. “That didn’t stop the First from using him, did it?”

“Giles, we talked about this. I don’t have time to go over it again.”

“Of course you don’t. You never do.”

Buffy looked at him sharply, her eyes narrowed. When she spoke, her voice was quiet and dangerous. “What do you mean by that?”

“You have never once placed anyone else before one of your vampires. Never. Where has it gotten you, Buffy, this selfish obsession of yours?”

“This is ridiculous. I don’t have a selfish obsession, Giles.”

“Your feelings have always blinded you, Buffy. First with Angel and now with Spike. How much longer will you let it continue? How many more will have to die because of it?”

“What the…” Buffy shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t even know why we’re talking about this. This isn’t the time or the place.” She placed her hand on the door handle and began to open it, eager to escape from what was going to quickly become another fight with Giles. “Spike only killed an innocent when he was under the control of the First. Since he’s gotten the chip, he’s never harmed anyone. The same thing goes for Angel when I dated him. He had his soul and it didn’t let him harm anyone.”


The room went silent, all eyes trained on either Giles or Buffy. She looked over at Willow and saw her mouthing Jenny’s name, horror and regret in her eyes. Buffy swallowed and looked back at Giles, wide-eyed. She tried to think of something – anything – to say, but words seemed to fail her.

She watched as Giles closed his eyes and took a breath, trying to regain his composure. “Or have you forgotten that she died?”

Buffy stared at him. No, she hadn’t forgotten. She had tried to forget, had tried to push it to the back of her brain in a desperate effort to believe that it had never happened. But it had and she knew it had. She had tried to forget every innocent death that had occurred, had tried to erase them from existence. Jesse, Kendra, Jenny, her mother, Tara, Jonathon, Cassie. Each death because she was too late, too weak, too scared, too slow. Their bodies haunted her at night, dancing before her eyes, taunting her. She hadn’t forgotten them – she saw their deaths repeated every night in her dreams. She just chose not to remember them, to refuse to acknowledge the pain that their death’s caused.

“Giles…” She didn’t know what to say. She closed her eyes and prayed that this wasn’t happening – that she was far away from this life with all its unwanted complications. When she opened her eyes, Giles was staring at her in a mixture of weariness and anger.

“Buffy, I’m sorry, but I can’t accept your support of Spike. He is a vampire and it’s your sacred duty to…”

“I don’t care about my sacred duty, Giles. I haven’t cared about it for the past two years. I’m tired of being the Slayer.” She gestured to the Potentials who were eavesdropping on the conversation, huddled in the dark corners near the living room door. “Look at them. They’re young girls. They should be out with their friends, dating boys, and going to the movies. They shouldn’t have to fight a war. I shouldn’t have to be fighting a war. I’ve been the Slayer for eight years. Eight years that seem more like a hundred. I’m twenty two years old, Giles, and I feel like I’m fifty.”

“Buffy, I understand what you must be feeling, but…”

Buffy sighed. “Do you understand, Giles? Do any of you?” She looked pointedly at Willow, Xander, and Anya. “I’m so tired of playing hero and saving the world. What have I gotten for saving the world all those times? To die twice? To be pulled out of Heaven and forced to live in a world I no longer care about? My house has been invaded by a swarm of teenage girls. My mother is dead and I suddenly have to bear the responsibilities of running a household and raising my sister. In the past year I’ve been depressed and broke. I couldn’t even look after myself, let alone Dawn. I’m tired, Giles/ And I want it to end.” She paused and looked at Giles, her eyes pleading. “I’m asking you, not as the Slayer, but as Buffy, to please let this vendetta against Spike go. He’s all I have left right now and I need that. I need it, Giles. I need him.”

It felt freeing to say it, to admit that her feelings for Spike had changed. She knew that she needed him – that she had needed him since last year when she was lost and confused. She wasn’t about to let anyone tear him away from her either, not now, not when she needed him the most. Not when she finally acknowledged that she needed him.

“I’m sorry, Giles, but that’s the way it is. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

Buffy sighed and opened the door. She knew that once she stepped outside everything was going to change. She knew that the house would erupt into frenzied conversations and her stability as the Slayer would be questioned. Let them talk, she thought. See if I care.

Taking a breath, Buffy stepped outside and closed the door behind her. She had more important things to do than to argue with Giles or her friends. She needed to go find her vampire.

Predictably, she found him at Willy’s, a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in hand. From what Buffy could see, he had already gone through one bottle and was well on his way to finishing a second. She sighed and made her way over to him. Sliding into the seat across from him, Buffy wrinkled her nose.

“God, Spike, how can you drink something that smells that bad?”

“Leave me alone, Slayer,” he said, refusing to look at her.

“Spike. Look at me. Please.”


Buffy sighed. “Do you always have to be so stubborn?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” He downed another shot of whiskey and looked up at her, irritated. “Could also ask why you followed me here. Come to stake me?”

Startled, Buffy eyed him warily. “What? No. Why would I stake you?”

Spike smiled wryly. “I attacked your principal. Warrants a staking, I s’ppose.”

“He’s not my principal,” she said automatically. She watched him take another shot and raised an eyebrow. “You almost sound like you want me to stake you.” She paused and peered at him closely. “Do you?”

“‘Course not.” He looked away from her and started pouring another shot.

“Good,” she sighed, “because I don’t want to stake you.”

Spike paused, setting down his shot glass. He studied her intently, his eyes a mixture of wariness and hope. Buffy nervously flicked her eyes away from his, gazing around the room instead. She chewed her lip, wondering how to proceed. Eventually, she sighed again and let her gaze drift back to Spike, who was still studying her. She gave him a half smile. “So, how’d he do it?”

Great, Buffy. Just blurt out the first thing that comes to your mind. Idiot. Couldn’t you have said anything but that? Or at least phrased it differently?

Buffy kicked herself mentally, wishing she could take back her question. She felt her face flush as she stumbled over her next words. “That, uh, wasn’t exactly what I meant to say. It sort of just slipped out. I didn’t think before I spoke and I know it was really insensitive of me. I’m sorry. I just wanted to know what happened, not really how he did it, but what went on tonight. But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. And I’m rambling right now, aren’t I?”

Spike nodded, a part of him secretly delighted at the blush that was spreading across Buffy’s face. Her question had taken him off guard, and he paused, choosing his next words carefully.

“You were right about the song bein’ the trigger. It was…it was a song my mum used to sing to me.”

He kept his gaze on the table, his hands fiddling nervously with the empty shot glass. Buffy reached over and took it from his hands, placing it out of his reach at the end of the table. She picked up his empty hands and squeezed them gently.

“Spike, the song? What does it mean? You can tell me.” She spoke quietly, hoping that he could hear the sincerity in her voice. She knew that whatever he was about to say was personal – something from Spike’s long forgotten past that would change everything. She took a breath, waiting for his explanation.

Spike smiled warily at her, his eyes sad. “I was close to my mum back when I was alive,” he whispered. “She was the only one who really ever cared about me before Dru. S’ppose it’s why it broke my heart to always see her so sick. They didn’t have a cure for TB back then.”


“Consumption, pet. It ate her from the inside out. Terrible disease to have back then, killed you off real slow. Was painful, too.” He cleared his throat and paused for a moment before continuing. “Dru turned me at a bad point in my life. Wasn’t much of a man then. Wasn’t much of anything, to be truthful. Know I told you that I was all sorts of bad, but the truth is, I was a disgrace. S’how I got my name, you know.”

“Huh?” Buffy wrinkled her nose in confusion. “You got your name how?”

“By writing bloody awful poetry,” he said with a dry, bitter laugh. “I was obsessed with a woman who never loved me, who never even noticed I existed. Told me I was bloody beneath her. Broke my heart, she did. It drove me out into the streets, which is where I met Dru.”

He paused again, taking a moment to reach for the shot glass before refilling it and swallowing the whiskey quickly. Buffy watched him, her heart breaking. Oh, Spike. What a life you’ve lived. I’m so, so sorry.

“What happened next?” she asked tentatively.

“After Dru turned me, I felt alive for the first time. Felt like I could do anything I wanted. The only thing holding me back was the thought of my mum, alone and wasting away. I couldn’t leave her there. I couldn’t.” He choked back a sob. Alarmed, Buffy reached across the table to take his hands again. She tried to sooth him, rubbing small circles into his skin.

“Spike, it’s ok. You don’t have to tell me. I…” She trailed off, unable to finish. She looked away from him, unsure whether or not she wanted him to finish his story.

“God, I didn’t want to kill her,” he whimpered, burying his face in his hands. “I just wanted to make her better. To make her healthy and alive. But I turned her. God, Buffy, I turned her.” He raised his tortured eyes to meet hers, almost as if he was begging her forgiveness. “She said some nasty bits to me after I turned her. It made me realize that she was no longer my mum. So…so, I staked her.”

“Oh, Spike,” she said softly, reaching across the table to cup his face. She stroked his cheek softly, trying to offer him comfort. She felt something inside her melt as he turned his head into her hand, nuzzling her palm. She could feel his tears against her skin, cold and desolate, mimicking the current emotions of their owner. Always so desperate for affection. I wish I could make this better for you.

Buffy sighed. “Spike, it’s not your fault. You did what you thought was right.”

“Did I?” he asked softly.

Buffy paused, choosing her next words carefully. “Do you know that when my mom was sick I almost asked you to turn her?”

Spike drew back, startled, staring at her with wide eyes. “You what?”

Buffy bit her lip and looked away, ashamed. “I wanted you to turn her. I thought about it for weeks before I built up the courage to go and ask you. I never did, though. I turned around as soon as I reached your crypt. But I wanted to. God, I wanted to so much. I didn’t want to see her grow sick and tired. I didn’t want to have to watch her die.” She took a breath, trying to recover her emotions. “What you did was no different from what I almost did. There’s nothing wrong in wanting to save someone you care about.”

She smiled softly at him and he returned her smile half-heartedly. She studied his face carefully for a few moments before standing up and holding out her hand. “Want to get out of here?”

He looked up at her, hesitant. “Going back to the house?”

“Not if you don’t want to. Not that I really want to either, for that matter.”

He stood up, eyeing her outstretched hand warily. “Don’t fancy another round with the Principal or the Watcher at the moment.”

“Neither do I,” Buffy muttered under her breath. Spike looked at her questioningly as he reached into his duster to pull out a handful of crumpled bills. He placed a couple on the table before looking back at her, an eyebrow raised.

“So, where to, pet?”

Buffy shrugged, instead reaching over to take Spike’s hand in hers. Twining her fingers with his, she looked up at him, smiling. Squeezing his hand softly, she said, “Doesn’t matter. We’ll figure something out eventually. We always do.”


Originally posted at