A Change in Scenery, Prompt 5 response - Nebula

The boardwalk was a beautiful place to be at night. Lights gave the night a warm glow that could be seen for miles. People weren't nearly as packed in as they had been earlier in the day, and voices could be heard from all over. It wasn't a dull roar of tumultuous sounds, though: it was more of a soft murmuring, and accompanied with the ocean off in the not so far distance, it made for a pleasant soundtrack to the warm night.

That wasn't the reason Spike was here, though. He was here for a girl.

After the harsh battle that had left him the stunned survivor, he'd spent a few minutes staring at the disaster that had been left behind. A cold wind had blown through, and he'd pulled himself from his shock and had tried to find his companions. Illyria had vanished, Gunn had been found dead in a corner, and dust had been all that was left of Angel, piled neatly next to the dragon's corpse.

He'd stayed a few more days in LA, creating memorials and hoping that the dearly departed were happier wherever they were. Then he'd done what he always did: moved on. Despite having been in the sunny state of California, he'd felt cold and hollow, and the world had been sharp and unkind.

For a month or so, he'd steadily made his way through to the east coast. The only people he knew that were left in this world were on the other side of the planet, and though he wasn't sure he'd be happily welcomed, he knew he'd be welcomed at least. They were all he had left for ties in this world. He'd hoped that they could warm him up with their usual brightness, give him something to feel besides pain.

Passing through Cleveland, however, he'd met up with Faith. She'd been shocked to see him, but had quickly figured out just what he'd been aiming to do, and had sent him in a new direction: New Jersey. “You could still grab a flight out of Philadelphia for London or Italy,” she'd told him with a smile, “but the person you're looking for isn't over the ocean anymore.”

Only a few days later, he found himself in New Jersey, more specifically in the beautiful city of Cape May.

Resorts and huge houses lined the single road that ran along the boardwalk. Further down from the boardwalk was a line of cobblestone streets that were for pedestrians only. Three of them ran parallel to the main boardwalk, making it easily accessible to those that wanted a softer shopping experience. The cobblestones streets were full of shops with food, souvenirs, and anything in between. It was one of those streets that he needed to find, preferably before nine o'clock, when the café closed.

She was working as a waitress. A little waitress in a little town, which was quite a difference in occupation. The last he'd heard of her, she'd been in Italy with the Immortal, who was most certainly one of the wealthiest demons on the planet. He wondered how and why she'd wound up here.

He didn't really care, though. Hell, he wouldn't have cared if she'd been living in the midst of a spinach field with a sack cloth on her head: she was still his Buffy, and that was all that mattered.

He passed a few streets before he found the one he wanted. It was well lit up and full of quite a few people, with not a chain branch store in sight. A delicious scent caught his attention, leading him around the side of a small building. A children's bookstore was one of the businesses on the left, with a shop selling fudge being the most prominent store on the right. It was this tasteful aroma he'd smelled from his vantage point seven stores down.

Right next to the fudge shop was the café. There were a few small tables and iron chairs outside, all of which were being pulled inside for the evening. It was five minutes to nine; he'd better hurry.

He moved forward, scanning the people for a sight of blonde hair. Teens laughed as they walked by, engrossed in their stories of school and life. A few families lingered, but most of what he saw were two parents carrying a sleeping child or two in their arms. There was no fighting, no blood, no weapons to carry: just a mellow happiness as the day drew to a close.

He could see now why this town would be a choice spot for Buffy.

Just as he reached the fudge shop, he saw her. She had a purse slung over her shoulder, a small apron tied around her waist, and her hair pulled back into her eternal ponytail. She was saying goodnight to someone inside the café, smiling and giggling over something, before she waved to the person inside and turned away.

She was digging for keys of some sort when he stepped up near her. She glanced up at him and froze, blinking a few times. She looked good; maybe a little tired, but she'd probably been on her feet for most of the day. She'd put a little weight on, much to his satisfaction. He'd hated watching her waste away during their battle against the First.

She blinked a few more times before she cleared her throat. “Hello,” she managed.

“Hi,” was his eloquent response. They stood with each other for a moment, feeling awkward but not knowing how to change it. Around them, people continued on their way, their hands and arms full of packages or children.

After a few moments, Buffy asked quietly, “How did you, um, find me?”

“Ran into Faith in Cleveland,” he explained. “I was actually headin' for Italy. It's where you were last with the Immortal.” He didn't want to flinch when he said the name, but the thought of her with him...it didn't sit well with Spike.

To his surprise, she rolled her eyes and smiled at him. “I was never with the Immortal,” she said softly. “He was a cover agent so I could get into the corrupted demon system. He was a great help and a good friend. He was never anything else. I had...someone else on my mind,” she mumbled, glancing anywhere but at him before quickly changing the subject “So, Faith told you where I was working?”

Slowly Spike began to smile. “Yeah. It's a nice place here; can see why you chose here. The arcaded streets without cars is a nice treat, too. Makes it easier to walk around.”

Buffy frowned at him. “There's a street full of games around here?”

He couldn't help the laugh that came out. Damn, but he'd missed her. “You headin' home?”

She nodded, dangling her keys up for him to see. “Yup. I can actually walk home, it's that close. It's pretty nice.”

“Plus, you don't have to get behind the wheel of a car,” he said, grinning at her face.

“Ha, ha. You know, someone tried to teach me once. Guess he was a horrible teacher.”

“That, or you were a horrible student.”

“I was not! I was a perfect student!”

“Luv, you were absolutely terrifying behind the wheel. Behind my wheel, no less.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and headed off towards a pathway that led away from the shops. “That car was old and terrible to drive. It's not my fault I did as badly as I did.”

“There was nothin' wrong with my car,” Spike said, sliding into step beside her. “I left finger dents in the door from grippin' too hard, you know that? You made me ruin my car.”

“I made you ruin your car? You didn't have to grip so hard. No one forced you to.”

“Your driving sort of required it. We never even left the parkin' lot. I couldn't imagine the horrors of you on the actual road.”

“You're pushing your luck, buddy.”

“I always do,” he murmured. The night air was still warm, and the voices of the crowd were fading behind them. There was no fighting here, no blood or weapons on him anywhere.

There was just a gentle breeze, the sounds of the ocean waves lapping at the shore, and her hand gently entwining with his as they walked. This was what he'd come for.

Warmth. Buffy. Tenderness.

Peace.