Title: A Common Life

 

Summary: Are you sure you want to live like common people? Post NFA by a few months.

 

Rated: PG

 

AN: Written for the #10 lyric wheel. Lyrics are to the song “Common People” and belong to Pulp. The characters belong to Joss.

 

 

 

She hadn’t intended to stay in Rome. It sort of just happened. She learned to speak the language, got comfortable in the little flat and somehow it sort of became home. Not home like Sunnydale, but a place she looked forward to returning after a week in England at Giles’ or a weekend in Paris with Dawn.

 

She’d made a life here. She had a small part time job teaching self defense, a group of friends she met on Tuesday nights for drinks and hadn’t done any slaying in over a year. Occasionally she took a trip to England and gave a pep speech to the potentials, or had a weekend jaunt to find a new one, but for the most part she was busy living the normal life she’d been trying to have since she was 15.

 

And if she got restless, hit with the urge to slay, she could drown it with alcohol. She told herself that it was normal. That was what people did and if she ended up drowning more often than not, well there were lots of people who did the same thing.

 

She was drowning when he found her in the bar that night. He knew it the moment he walked in. He could smell the restlessness, the predatory scent rolling off her. She was aching to slay and trying to pour alcohol over it. He sat down at the bar beside her and motioned for the bartender.

 

“I’ll have one of what she’s having.”

 

He waited until the whiskey was in front of him to look over at her. “I expected to find a lot things when I came here, but the slayer drowning her sorrows wasn’t one of them.”

 

She shot him a glare, one of the ones that broadcast a variety of curses all telling him to go away. He chuckled. “S’not gonna work with me, Luv. I’ve had Peaches shooting the same glares at me for over a year and not to burst your bubble but he’s better at it then you.”

 

“Spike, what the hell are you doing here?” she spat at him as she drained her whiskey and called for another.

 

“Came to check up on you. Saw Niblet a few weeks ago in Jolly old England. She’s worried about you. Says you drink too much.” He leveled a gaze at her as he sipped his whiskey. Bit was right. Big sis did look worn to the nerve, too thin, too tired, too much of everything that was bad.

 

“She’s in England. I’m here. Exactly what business of hers is it what I do?” Her voice grated out filled with bitterness.

 

“She loves you. Doesn’t want to see you hurt,” he explained, his voice softening.

 

The slayer shook her head taking several moments to respond. “I’m fine. Not hurting a bit.”

 

Spike gave her a dry look, took a sip of his whiskey and smirked. “Yeah…seems like that’s working out well for you. You look like hell.”

 

She sighed. “Thanks. That’s what every girl loves to hear. Glad the Italian guys don’t agree with you.”

 

Spike laughed. “What? The Immortal? Like he doesn’t have ulterior motives.”

 

“No, not The Immortal. I dumped Mortie ages ago. He was boring, pretentious and arrogant.  Patrizo doesn’t have a clue about the things that go bump in the night. He thinks I work out for the strength. He’s a normal boy for the normal life I have,” she explained. She curtained the tremor of uncertainly with false bravado.

 

“Patrizo?” Spike snickered. “Nancy boy name if I ever heard one.”

 

“Is that what you came back here for? You think you’ll be a better boyfriend for me?” She snapped. “We tried that, remember. It was not my most stellar moment.”

 

“There were several ‘moments’ Pet and I’m not proud of it myself,” he grumbled and slammed his empty glass down. The bartender filled it. “Sides, that’s not what I’m here. I’m here because Bit thinks you’ll be more honest with me than you are with her. Want me to go back to Great Brit and tell her Big Sis has become a bitchy lush?”

 

She slapped him not withholding any of her strength. His pale face bore a faint mark. He shook it off, grimaced and took a sip of his whiskey. “Good to see you haven’t changed. Show you the truth and you pound it until it’s willing to lie.”

 

Fury blazed in her eyes and her face drained white. She pressed her lips together, took a deep breath and shook her head. “You’re not worth it.” She pushed away from the bar and stood up, spinning on her heel. She rushed out the front door, turned a corner and disappeared into a crooked alley. He followed her, catching up to her easily enough that he knew she wanted to be caught.

 

“Wasn’t finished talked to you, Slayer.”

 

She turned to him, moving close enough to smell the whiskey on his breath. “But I’m finished talking to you,” she spat.

 

“What you doing here, Slayer? What are you playing at?” Spike asked as he released his hold on her wrist.

 

“You don’t get it, Spike. You never did. I want to live like common people. I rented a flat above a shop, got a haircut on the street and I got a job that doesn’t involve killing anything. I want to date normal boys and not have it be a world ending relationship.” She shook her head, wet her lips with the tip of her tongue and looked up at him. “I want normal.”

 

“You’ll never be normal, Slayer. Doesn’t matter how many bitty slayers you make, you’re still the one. You know it. That’s why you drink so much, hopin to chase away those itchies, that thing that makes you wanna hunt and kill,” Spike smirked.

 

She shook her head. “I’m not a killer. That’s not what a slayer is…and it doesn’t matter anymore because I’m not a slayer.”

 

He lunged at her, fangs bared, a growl rumbling in his chest and slammed her up against a wall. She reacted on instinct, pushing him away from her so she could turn and drive an elbow in his gut. She grabbed his upper arm and tossed him to the ground. He lay on his back laughing.

 

“Looks like a duck, sounds like a duck…I call that a duck, Slayer.”

 

“I didn’t ask for your intervention, Spike. I’m doing just peachy by myself,” she yelled at him. Tears hovered in the back of her throat, threatening to surface.

 

Spike eased himself up from the ground, fumbled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it.  “You think that’s what this is? An intervention?” He paused for a moment, took a drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke out. “S’pose it is after a sort. Truth is, Slayer, you’re off the hooks. All this bein normal stuff has got you turned inside out. Not sure why you’d want to be normal. Spent all my mortal life being normal. S’not everything it’s cracked up to be.”

 

She sighed then sagged against the wall of the building, defeated. “And what’s your suggestion, Spike? What do you think I should do, Mr. All Knowing?”

 

Spike chuckled. “Rather like that title.” At her smirk he dropped that thread and moved on to answer her question. “I don’t know, Slayer. I spent my entire human life searching for something that seemed right. Never did find it. Did you?”

 

She wrapped her arms around herself and stared at the alley, scuffing at the dirt with her foot. “I thought I did. Once.”

 

“And?”

 

“Oh come on, Spike. You know this story…girl meets boy a.k.a. vampire. Girl falls in love with boy. Boy goes evil. Boy comes back good. Boy leaves girl. At one time things were right. Normal didn’t matter. Yeah I protested a lot, talked about it, threw a tantrum or two, but the truth was when I got normal in the form of  an archaic test, I shoved it away with both hands. I was too afraid that if I wasn’t the slayer I wasn’t anything he’d want.”

 

Spike made a face and tossed his cigarette to the dirt, grinding it out with the toe of his boot. “Oh sod it all. Didn’t realize this was about Captain Forehead.”

 

She rolled her eyes at him. “Go back to London, Spike…or where ever rock you crawled out from under.” She pushed herself off the wall and started down the alley toward her flat.

 

“Still all bout you with him too you know,” Spike said to her retreating back.

 

She stopped, turning her head just a quarter of the way toward him. “What?”

 

“Peaches, the bloody ponce. We traipsed up here to try and save Fred several months back. I’m sure Andrew told you about it. S’all over the wanker.”

 

She took a breath, her entire body shivering slightly with it. She moved another quarter of a turn toward him. “What’s all over him?”

 

“You, Luv. Sure he’s had other bints. Never amounted to much. He never did get that moony face he gets when your name comes up.” His tone was condescending but buried underneath it was something that sounded like envy, maybe a touch of bitterness.

 

She shook her head, a laugh that was almost a sob bubbling out of her. “So what? I take the next plane to LA?”

 

Spike shrugged. “Why not? Works in all those chick flicks Bit makes me watch.”

 

She finally turned to face him fully. “I don’t even know where to find him.”

 

“Old hotel. Creepy if you ask me. The Hyperion. Even sounds pretentious,” he said as he got another cigarette out of the pack and lit it.

 

She smiled the first smile since he’d walked into the bar. She walked to him, leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. Tell Dawnie I love her and I’ll come see her soon.”

 

 

*

 

 

She pushed open the double doors of the old hotel. A smile curved her lips as she decided Spike’s description of it had been right. It was a bit creepy. A thin, pale boy stood behind the curved reception desk.

 

“Hi. I’m looking for Angel.”

 

The words had scarcely left her lips when he emerged from the office, his thick hair a bed rumpled mess, dark eyes as haunted as she remembered and every bit as beautiful.

 

“Buffy.”

 

 

"Common People"

She came from Greece she had a thirst for knowledge
She studied sculpture at Saint Martin's College, that's where I caught her eye.
She told me that her Dad was loaded
I said in that case I'll have a rum and coke-cola.
She said fine and in thirty seconds time she said, I want to live like common people
I want to do whatever common people do, I want to sleep with common people
I want to sleep with common people like you.
Well what else could I do - I said I'll see what I can do.
I took her to a supermarket
I don't know why but I had to start it somewhere, so it started there.
I said pretend you've got no money, she just laughed and said oh you're so funny.
I said yeah? Well I can't see anyone else smiling in here.
Are you sure you want to live like common people
You want to see whatever common people see
You want to sleep with common people,
you want to sleep with common people like me.
But she didn't understand, she just smiled and held my hand.
Rent a flat above a shop, cut your hair and get a job.
Smoke some fags and play some pool, pretend you never went to school.
But still you'll never get it right
'cos when you're laid in bed at night watching roaches climb the wall
If you call your Dad he could stop it all.
You'll never live like common people
You'll never do what common people do
You'll never fail like common people
You'll never watch your life slide out of view, and dance and drink and screw
Because there's nothing else to do.
Sing along with the common people, sing along and it might just get you thru'
Laugh along with the common people
Laugh along even though they're laughing at you and the stupid things that you do.
Because you think that poor is cool.
I want to live with common people, I want to live with common people like you...