TITLE: THE TRUSTED FRIEND
RATED: G
DISCLAIMER: Characters belong to Joss & Co. I'm just having fun with this.
COMMENTS: Takes place after "The Gift." Buffy/Spike stuff.
Buffy found herself in the basement of St. Catherine's Church. The large, rectangular room also served as the recreation center for the church. There was a kitchenette, restrooms, folded-up buffet tables and stacks of metal folding chairs. Pushed against the far corner was an old piano. Buffy didn't know how to play the piano. Truth be told, she had no musical ability whatsoever. But she gravitated toward the piano and sat down on the piano bench. She started pressing keys in a vain attempt to recreate the melody of one of her favorite songs. When that didn't produce the desired results, she started pressing keys at random. She knew that some people expressed their emotions quite effectively through music. Since she couldn't decide exactly how she felt, she thought maybe her feelings would emerge magically out of the instrument if she pounded at the keys long enough. Luckily, the place appeared to be deserted because all that emerged from the piano was loud, angry noise.
She was pushing the keys harder and faster, oblivious to the awful racket she was creating, and so she was startled when a hand rested on her shoulder. She hadn't attended mass in many years, but she recognized the sixtyish man with the gray hair as Father McAlister.
"Father, I'm sorry," she stammered, "I shouldn't be here." She rose to go.
"That 'music'-and I use the term loosely, was quite angry," he said.
Buffy looked at the piano, then at the floor sheepishly.
"It doesn't matter what brought you here," Father McAlister continued, "All are welcome in the Lord's house."
"I haven't been here in a very long time," Buffy answered. I . . . I'm not even sure if I believe in God."
The priest's hearty laugh surprised Buffy. Not at all the reaction she expected to elicit from her blunt statement.
"My dear child," he said, "It doesn't matter if you believe in Him or not. He believes in you."
Buffy looked at him, her mouth hanging open. She tried to swallow the lump that had quickly formed in her throat, but that didn't stop the tears. She managed to say, "I need to go to Confession. What times are they heard?"
"Well," he began, "Saturdays at two and seven, Sundays at four, and right now." He paused for a moment, and then gestured towards the piano bench. "Welcome to my Confessional."
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
It had been less than a week since Buffy's latest "death" and subsequent "resurrection." She was still fuzzy on the details. Giles, Willow and Angel had tried explaining the process to her but she had smacked her head pretty good in the fall, and even being resuscitated or resurrected or whatever couldn't erase her severe concussion.
She wasn't expecting to wake up. Hell, she didn't know what she expected, but it certainly wasn't to awaken in her own, bed, looking up at Dawn. After their tearful, if confusing reunion, Dawn told Giles, Willow and Angel to come in to explain what happened. Buffy responded to their explanations with an, "Uh huh," a couple of, "What?"s, and a few, "Oh,"s. Monosyllabic words seemed to be the extent of her post-mortem vocabulary. She couldn't think of anything remotely appropriate to say to them, and so she squeaked out, "Thank you," and fell back asleep.
When she awoke again, the following day, she had a long talk with her sister. Despite Dawn's best efforts, she wasn't able to answer all of Buffy's questions. And so after Buffy took a long, hot shower, they went to the magic shop to see Giles.
When they arrived there, Giles, Willow, Tara, Xander and Anya all embraced Buffy fiercely. Then they all sat down and explained to Buffy how they got her back, with Angel's help. Even when Giles explained it, it still sounded confusing and unbelievable. But she got that Willow helped Angel intervene with The Powers That Be, and since her soul was temporarily housed in another dimension and hadn't yet crossed over to non-existence, it was possible to call her soul back. But her body had taken quite a beating, and she had slept for three days straight.
Now, here it was five days later, and she was confessing her sins to Father McAlister on a piano bench in the basement of St. Catherine's. When she left there she felt better. She suspected Father McAlister did not.
When she got home from the church it occurred to her that she hadn't seen Spike. Willow had told her that Angel left as soon as he knew Buffy was okay. Buffy agreed that that was for the best. But Spike's absence struck her as odd. And it made her angry. After all, he had promised to protect Dawn "until the end of the world," yet he was nowhere to be found. Serves her right for trusting a vampire, she thought bitterly.
When she finally asked Dawn about him, Dawn's expression flashed through a variety of emotions ranging from sadness to excitement. "Buffy," she started, "Spike took your, um, death pretty hard. You should've seen him-he was really broken up. He was shaking and, and crying. I mean actually sobbing with grief." Buffy was stunned and her anger faded-a little. "After you . . . before Willow and Angel brought you back, Spike asked Giles to take care of me, just for a week or two, because he felt like he couldn't yet. He promised he'd be back to watch over me. He . . . he really loves you, you know. I think his reaction to your . . . to losing you . . . well I think it surprised him. Kind of funny when you think about it. He used to try to kill you a lot."
Buffy said, "Yeah," after she realized Dawn had stopped talking and expected her to say something.
"Oh!" Dawn said suddenly, "He doesn't know you're back! He left me with Giles and then he took off! But he'll be back. I know he will. He promised."
"Uh huh," Buffy said, but she had a faraway look in her eyes and she made up an excuse to escape to her bedroom to process all this information.
Buffy lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling. The past few weeks she had been concentrating on only one thing-protecting Dawn. She had been completely consumed by it. She hadn't stopped for one second to think about how she felt about Spike. He definitely loved her-of that there could be no doubt. And she had come to trust him. She had put Dawn's life in his hands more than once lately and he had come through every time. For so long she had held firmly to the belief that a vampire (without a soul) equals evil. Spike had made her question that for the very first time. She knew there were good demons, and demons who weren't pure evil but were simply naughty. But vampires were supposed to be the most evil demons that existed. But she couldn't say that Spike was still evil and keep a straight face. Was it really just the chip in his brain that kept him from being evil? She toyed with the idea of finding a way to remove the chip to see what would happen, but her slayer instincts quickly vetoed that notion.
Ever since Riley left, Buffy had pushed all thoughts of romance to the way deep parts of her brain. What with her mother's death, defeating Glory and protecting her sister, there simply wasn't room in her crowded heart to ponder falling in love with someone else. Every relationship she had had with a man had ended badly. As the slayer, she never hesitated to risk her life. But to risk her heart . . . she simply wasn't ready for that. But she had to face Spike, if for no other reason than to thank him.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Spike needed to get away from Sunnyhell for a while. He wanted to be loyal to Buffy and protect Dawn, but he was too sick with grief to face Dawn or any of the Scoobies.
He couldn't believe she was gone. For the first time in his undead life he felt truly dead. He knew he had wanted Buffy sexually, but he wasn't absolutely sure whether his lust for her arose out of wanting to kill her but being unable to, or if he was truly physically attracted to her. Now he was absolutely sure that not only did he want her, he also loved her. He was overwhelmed by it. And now that she was gone, he felt like his heart had broken into a thousand pieces. He laughed bitterly when he thought about all the times he had tried to kill her. Ironically, he realized that if he had succeeded in killing her years ago, he wouldn't be in so much pain now. If it weren't for Dawn, he'd off himself. He couldn't imagine ever being happy again. Even though Buffy didn't love him and never would, it was enough for Spike that she trusted him and treated him with respect. He could live with that. Even if he lacked the courage to kill himself, he was sure he could find a number of people and demons willing to do it for him. But he had promised Buffy he'd protect Dawn "until the end of the world," and he had meant it.
After a week of wandering around, he knew it was time to return to Sunnydale, to Dawn. Together they would figure out how to go on without Buffy.
When Spike arrived in Sunnydale, he went straight to his crypt to get some blood. When he left there he walked through the cemetery to Buffy's-Dawn's house. He was surprised to run into Willow, Xander and Anya. Out of habit, he looked around them, half expecting to see Buffy with them. Of course, she wasn't.
"What're you kids doing out here?" he asked, "Trying to get yourselves killed?"
Willow answered him. "We've been patrolling while Buffy recovers. Well, sweeping, anyway. By tomorrow night she'll be as good as new, ready to kick some serious vampire-uh-no offense."
"You fixed the robot?" Spike asked incredulously. "I can't believe I'm saying this," he continued, "But isn't that kind of morbid? You can't just replace Buffy. I know. I tried."
The three of them looked at Spike as if he had just grown a second head.
"What?" Spike said in frustration. "I'm right about this. Why are you all looking at me that way?"
"Spike," Xander finally said, "Buffy's . . ."
"Alive," Willow finished. "We brought her back. She wasn't all-the-way dead yet; hadn't crossed over. So Angel and I . . . well it's a long story but she's . . ."
Before Willow could finish explaining, Spike took off running.
When he arrived at the Summers' home, all the lights were off. He considered knocking, briefly.
He crept into her room, silent as a cat, as he had done in the past. He watched Buffy sleep as an array of emotions washed over him. After about an hour, he moved into a chair, sitting with its back in front of him. He crossed his arms over the back of the chair and continued to watch her sleep.
When Buffy awoke, sometime in the predawn hours, Spike was still sitting in the chair, looking at her.
"When I first came to Sunnyhell," he said without preamble, "I came to kill the slayer. Let me be clear, here. I didn't just want your death; I wanted, very much, to cause it. When I couldn't accomplish that, and you failed to dust me I might add, I wanted just to inflict pain on you. I may have given you a nasty bruise or two, but I didn't really meet that goal, either. Then it was sparring with you that I wanted. It kept me in shape and it was always exhilarating. Then I got that chip in my brain." Spike stood up and began to pace.
"To my great horror, I discovered it wasn't hurting you that I missed most. It was touching you. Feeling your power, the sexual energy that surrounds you, the way you're always so certain you're in the right."
He stopped pacing and looked directly at Buffy. Her hair fell loosely across her shoulders and the predawn light illuminated her face just enough that Spike forgot for a moment what he was saying. Finally he said, "And now, well now all I can do is love you."
He gave her a very brief smile, then he quietly left before Buffy could speak.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
A few weeks later, everyone had fallen back into a routine. Buffy, Xander, Willow, Anya and Tara patrolled regularly while Giles stayed with Dawn either at her house or his. Most nights Spike joined them, but occasionally he did his own thing. He and Buffy were civil to each other, but the others could sense a kind of awkward nervousness between them.
One week they had all worked particularly hard to kill off a pack of Seetha demons. The nightly battles had been brutal and left them all bruised and exhausted by the end of it. And so they decided to take a well-deserved and much needed night off and have "movie night." Buffy still wasn't terribly comfortable in her own living room, having found her mother's body on the sofa only a few months earlier. Xander quickly volunteered his and Anya's apartment. As they made their plans at the magic shop that afternoon, Giles said to leave him out of it because he had plans of his own that evening. After they decided on the movies and the snacks, Xander finally asked aloud what everyone else wondered silently. "So, do we invite Spike to join us? We could tell him it's BYOB-Bring Your Own Blood."
"Well, at least he wouldn't hog all the popcorn," Tara said, glancing accusingly but playfully at Willow.
"Do vampires watch movies?" Dawn asked.
"Well, Spike watches 'Passions,'" Buffy offered, silently adding, so did Mom. She was quiet after that because she didn't want Spike to hear from anyone that she wanted him to be there. And so she left her opinions unvoiced.
Willow said, "Spike's been fighting evil just as hard as we have, lately. I think he deserves a night of relaxation as much as we do."
"But it's not like we can call him on the phone to invite him," Anya replied.
"He probably doesn't want to hang around with us, anyway," Dawn said, "Except when he gets to beat up on something."
Buffy looked at her sister and wondered if her cynicism was normal 14-year-old-girl stuff or a result of their mother's death. She made a mental note to be more positive around her.
"I'll swing by his crypt when I go out to rent the movies," Xander said. He tried to sound as if it were the last thing he wanted to waste his time on, but in reality he had come to understand Spike a little better-to the point where he almost liked the guy.
Buffy was pleased that this decision had been reached without her input. She was not ready to admit to anyone, even herself, that she liked having Spike around. And she had never, ever socialized with him. Of course, none of that mattered unless he accepted Xander's invitation. It occurred to her that Xander's 'invitation' might come across as less than inviting, or that Spike might think Xander was just feeling sorry for him. If that happened, Spike was sure not to come.
"Isn't the video rental place on the other side of town from the cemetery?" Buffy asked Xander as nonchalantly as possible.
"Yeah, but it's not that far away," he answered.
"I actually have nothing to do today," Buffy said quickly. Actually, she had bills to write out, laundry to wash and yard work to do, but all that could wait. "I could go and ask him."
"Dawn can come home with me and help me prepare the apartment for movies," Anya interrupted. "I have seating arrangements to make, appropriate hors-d'oeuvres to cook, not to mention lighting issues. And toilet paper! My god, Xander, do we have enough? We'll see you all later," Anya finished, the decision apparently made.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Buffy didn't want to seem too eager. She wanted Spike to think his invitation was an afterthought. They were meeting at Xander's and Anya's at 8:00. At 5:30 she grabbed herself a sandwich, then headed over to Spike's.
When she got there, she hesitated in front of the door. Should she knock? In the end she decided that doing anything out of the ordinary would come across as, well, out of the ordinary. And so she barged in as was her usual habit.
"Surprised to see you, Slayer," Spike said lazily, "I thought you were taking the night off."
He had on brown slacks and a long-sleeved brown shirt, which he was buttoning when she walked in. She pretended not to notice. She tried to sound as casual as humanly possible. "We're going to watch some videos at Xander's and Anya's tonight."
"Are you asking me on a date?" Spike teased.
"No!" Buffy said indignantly. "Xander was going to stop by and ask you but you don't have a phone and he wasn't coming this direction and why am I bothering to explain any of this to you?" She turned and headed toward the door, but stopped in front of it and turned back to face him.
"I've got other plans, anyway," he told her. "I do have my own existence, you know."
"Dawn thinks of you as a big brother."
Spike stopped buttoning his shirt and looked at Buffy.
"It would mean a lot to her if you did something fun with her. Something where neither one of you is thinking about death and the end of the world. She needs . . ."
"And what do you need, Buffy?" he interjected, taking a step toward her.
"I'm fine," she snapped. "Sitting around watching videos is what I need, too."
He thought better of pushing the issue with her. There would be another time. "What time?" he asked finally.
"8:00."
"I'll make an effort to stop by."
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Spike arrived at Xander's and Anya's at 8:15. He had planned on getting good and drunk at the Bronze, but he bagged those plans for this opportunity. He wasn't one of them and he never would be. But he wanted to be around Buffy, and it didn't much matter what the activity was. And he genuinely liked Dawn and it moved him that she thought of him as a big brother. He'd never been anyone's big brother before. He wanted Buffy to wonder whether or not he'd show up, and so he made sure not to get there right at 8:00.
After Xander escorted Spike to the living room, Xander joined Anya on an overstuffed chair. Willow and Tara were sitting together on the loveseat and Dawn and Buffy were on the couch. After a brief, awkward moment of greetings, Buffy slid over on the couch until her shoulders were practically touching Dawn's so that Spike could sit on the other side. Dawn explained to Spike what had already happened on "A Fish Called Wanda," and then everyone fell silent as they watched the movie.
Buffy's unbridled belly laugh was a sound Spike couldn't recall ever hearing before. He felt a tingling sensation in his gut and he inhaled deeply, almost as if he could take that moment inside himself and savor it. He stole a look at her and he thought he might die on the spot from pure joy. In the past Spike had often felt excited, thrilled, intoxicated, disappointed and even terrified. But joy was an emotion totally foreign to him. His heart felt like it was humming, and he held onto that feeling throughout most of the evening.
After "A Fish Called Wanda," they watched "The Matrix." Dawn fell asleep about a half-hour into it, and Willow and Tara nodded off shortly after her. By the end of that movie, Xander and Anya had also fallen asleep. Spike said he was going to step outside to have a quick smoke. Buffy switched off the VCR and put the TV on to some late-night talk show. After about a minute, she went into the kitchen to get herself a drink. After she put the Coke bottle back in the refrigerator, she turned around and was startled to see Spike standing there, fidgeting with an unopened package of microwaveable popcorn.
"I can't do this," Spike told her.
"Uhh," she grunted in exasperation and grabbed the package from his hands. "The directions are right on it," she said, tearing the plastic off of it.
"Not the damn popcorn," he said in frustration, "This."
"What?" if he didn't mean the popcorn, then what the hell was he talking about?
"I can't be one of your 'scoobies,'" he announced.
She was speechless.
"Dawn's pretending I'm human, Willow's pretending I'm one of the gang and you . . . well, you trust me and I thought that was enough. It's not. I can't be your trusted friend."
Buffy's mouth hung open as speech continued to elude her.
"I've got to have it all; the whole Buffy Summers package. I've got to have your heart, your body, your tears and your laughter. If I can't, then it's time for me to walk away; to move on."
Buffy finally decided on an emotion-and it was anger. "I already handed over 'the whole Buffy Summers package' to someone I thought was Mr. Right. So it's gone. I don't have it to give anymore."
"Maybe I'm Mr. Right," Spike challenged her.
"Well, you're late!" Buffy replied, letting the heat of her hurricane of emotions dictate her words.
"Can you honestly stand two feet away from me and not feel the fire between us?" he asked.
"I don't feel it, Spike," she answered.
He took a step closer. "How about now?"
He stood a mere few inches away from her and she found she couldn't meet his gaze. "I like nice men," she said weakly. He reached over and tilted her chin up with his index finger. They stared at each other for a moment in that position, and then he quickly captured her mouth with his own. He had meant it to be a gentle, hesitantly probing kiss, but his passion took over and he kissed her fiercely, hungrily. Before she could push him away, he broke off the kiss and stepped back a little.
"You'll never meet anyone else like me. I'll ask you one last time," he said, "Do we have a chance?"
She wanted to say no. She wanted to be able to send him on his way without any second thoughts. She wanted to tell him she never wanted to see him again and mean it. But she couldn't. She knew she couldn't and the bitch of it was that he knew she couldn't, too.
She knew he expected her to answer 'yes' and give him a hug and a chaste kiss. But the part of her that remembered she was not only the slayer but also a woman wanted to shock that arrogance right off his face. She went to the doorway and peeked into the living room to assure herself that everyone else was still asleep. Then she turned back around and shoved Spike to the floor. The look of shock in his eyes was the reward she had been hoping for. She straddled him, then bent down and stretched out on top of him, covering his body with hers. She looked down at him like a predator eyeing up its prey.
"Looks like someone's got control issues," he hissed. "Alright, then. You win." And with that he relaxed his body and stretched his arms out in a prone position.
She wanted to smack that smug look right off of his face. Instead, his body's sudden surrender to her made her body surge with power and arousal. Some part of her brain knew Spike wasn't powerless, but he seemed so vulnerable beneath her that it disarmed her. She looked at him and realized she was losing control. She had never lost her control in front of Spike before, and it terrified her. She very nearly got up and ran out of the apartment. But she couldn't remember ever running away from Spike, and she wasn't about to start now. She decided, instead, to face her fear and she looked at Spike-really looked at him. She expected to see the soulless, menacing glare of a monster. What she did see in his eyes frightened her even more. She looked for the monster in him, but all she saw was the love. That look of undying, unconditional love that made her draw her breath in sharply. When she continued gazing into his eyes, she saw something else. Just beyond the love in his eyes was desire. Not just a basic, animal desire of a man for a woman, but the need of this man for this woman. She was overcome with emotion.
Spike could see Buffy struggling with her emotions. He had given himself away to her completely, and now he waited to see her reaction to the truth. He had lain himself out for her both literally and figuratively. There was nothing left for him to say or do.
Buffy knew that if she kissed Spike now, there would be no going back. She'd be his completely and they both knew that. There was no such thing as an innocent, one-time-only kiss between them. If she kissed him, it would mean . . .
She kissed him. And the rest of her life began.
The End
RATED: G
DISCLAIMER: Characters belong to Joss & Co. I'm just having fun with this.
COMMENTS: Takes place after "The Gift." Buffy/Spike stuff.
Buffy found herself in the basement of St. Catherine's Church. The large, rectangular room also served as the recreation center for the church. There was a kitchenette, restrooms, folded-up buffet tables and stacks of metal folding chairs. Pushed against the far corner was an old piano. Buffy didn't know how to play the piano. Truth be told, she had no musical ability whatsoever. But she gravitated toward the piano and sat down on the piano bench. She started pressing keys in a vain attempt to recreate the melody of one of her favorite songs. When that didn't produce the desired results, she started pressing keys at random. She knew that some people expressed their emotions quite effectively through music. Since she couldn't decide exactly how she felt, she thought maybe her feelings would emerge magically out of the instrument if she pounded at the keys long enough. Luckily, the place appeared to be deserted because all that emerged from the piano was loud, angry noise.
She was pushing the keys harder and faster, oblivious to the awful racket she was creating, and so she was startled when a hand rested on her shoulder. She hadn't attended mass in many years, but she recognized the sixtyish man with the gray hair as Father McAlister.
"Father, I'm sorry," she stammered, "I shouldn't be here." She rose to go.
"That 'music'-and I use the term loosely, was quite angry," he said.
Buffy looked at the piano, then at the floor sheepishly.
"It doesn't matter what brought you here," Father McAlister continued, "All are welcome in the Lord's house."
"I haven't been here in a very long time," Buffy answered. I . . . I'm not even sure if I believe in God."
The priest's hearty laugh surprised Buffy. Not at all the reaction she expected to elicit from her blunt statement.
"My dear child," he said, "It doesn't matter if you believe in Him or not. He believes in you."
Buffy looked at him, her mouth hanging open. She tried to swallow the lump that had quickly formed in her throat, but that didn't stop the tears. She managed to say, "I need to go to Confession. What times are they heard?"
"Well," he began, "Saturdays at two and seven, Sundays at four, and right now." He paused for a moment, and then gestured towards the piano bench. "Welcome to my Confessional."
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
It had been less than a week since Buffy's latest "death" and subsequent "resurrection." She was still fuzzy on the details. Giles, Willow and Angel had tried explaining the process to her but she had smacked her head pretty good in the fall, and even being resuscitated or resurrected or whatever couldn't erase her severe concussion.
She wasn't expecting to wake up. Hell, she didn't know what she expected, but it certainly wasn't to awaken in her own, bed, looking up at Dawn. After their tearful, if confusing reunion, Dawn told Giles, Willow and Angel to come in to explain what happened. Buffy responded to their explanations with an, "Uh huh," a couple of, "What?"s, and a few, "Oh,"s. Monosyllabic words seemed to be the extent of her post-mortem vocabulary. She couldn't think of anything remotely appropriate to say to them, and so she squeaked out, "Thank you," and fell back asleep.
When she awoke again, the following day, she had a long talk with her sister. Despite Dawn's best efforts, she wasn't able to answer all of Buffy's questions. And so after Buffy took a long, hot shower, they went to the magic shop to see Giles.
When they arrived there, Giles, Willow, Tara, Xander and Anya all embraced Buffy fiercely. Then they all sat down and explained to Buffy how they got her back, with Angel's help. Even when Giles explained it, it still sounded confusing and unbelievable. But she got that Willow helped Angel intervene with The Powers That Be, and since her soul was temporarily housed in another dimension and hadn't yet crossed over to non-existence, it was possible to call her soul back. But her body had taken quite a beating, and she had slept for three days straight.
Now, here it was five days later, and she was confessing her sins to Father McAlister on a piano bench in the basement of St. Catherine's. When she left there she felt better. She suspected Father McAlister did not.
When she got home from the church it occurred to her that she hadn't seen Spike. Willow had told her that Angel left as soon as he knew Buffy was okay. Buffy agreed that that was for the best. But Spike's absence struck her as odd. And it made her angry. After all, he had promised to protect Dawn "until the end of the world," yet he was nowhere to be found. Serves her right for trusting a vampire, she thought bitterly.
When she finally asked Dawn about him, Dawn's expression flashed through a variety of emotions ranging from sadness to excitement. "Buffy," she started, "Spike took your, um, death pretty hard. You should've seen him-he was really broken up. He was shaking and, and crying. I mean actually sobbing with grief." Buffy was stunned and her anger faded-a little. "After you . . . before Willow and Angel brought you back, Spike asked Giles to take care of me, just for a week or two, because he felt like he couldn't yet. He promised he'd be back to watch over me. He . . . he really loves you, you know. I think his reaction to your . . . to losing you . . . well I think it surprised him. Kind of funny when you think about it. He used to try to kill you a lot."
Buffy said, "Yeah," after she realized Dawn had stopped talking and expected her to say something.
"Oh!" Dawn said suddenly, "He doesn't know you're back! He left me with Giles and then he took off! But he'll be back. I know he will. He promised."
"Uh huh," Buffy said, but she had a faraway look in her eyes and she made up an excuse to escape to her bedroom to process all this information.
Buffy lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling. The past few weeks she had been concentrating on only one thing-protecting Dawn. She had been completely consumed by it. She hadn't stopped for one second to think about how she felt about Spike. He definitely loved her-of that there could be no doubt. And she had come to trust him. She had put Dawn's life in his hands more than once lately and he had come through every time. For so long she had held firmly to the belief that a vampire (without a soul) equals evil. Spike had made her question that for the very first time. She knew there were good demons, and demons who weren't pure evil but were simply naughty. But vampires were supposed to be the most evil demons that existed. But she couldn't say that Spike was still evil and keep a straight face. Was it really just the chip in his brain that kept him from being evil? She toyed with the idea of finding a way to remove the chip to see what would happen, but her slayer instincts quickly vetoed that notion.
Ever since Riley left, Buffy had pushed all thoughts of romance to the way deep parts of her brain. What with her mother's death, defeating Glory and protecting her sister, there simply wasn't room in her crowded heart to ponder falling in love with someone else. Every relationship she had had with a man had ended badly. As the slayer, she never hesitated to risk her life. But to risk her heart . . . she simply wasn't ready for that. But she had to face Spike, if for no other reason than to thank him.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Spike needed to get away from Sunnyhell for a while. He wanted to be loyal to Buffy and protect Dawn, but he was too sick with grief to face Dawn or any of the Scoobies.
He couldn't believe she was gone. For the first time in his undead life he felt truly dead. He knew he had wanted Buffy sexually, but he wasn't absolutely sure whether his lust for her arose out of wanting to kill her but being unable to, or if he was truly physically attracted to her. Now he was absolutely sure that not only did he want her, he also loved her. He was overwhelmed by it. And now that she was gone, he felt like his heart had broken into a thousand pieces. He laughed bitterly when he thought about all the times he had tried to kill her. Ironically, he realized that if he had succeeded in killing her years ago, he wouldn't be in so much pain now. If it weren't for Dawn, he'd off himself. He couldn't imagine ever being happy again. Even though Buffy didn't love him and never would, it was enough for Spike that she trusted him and treated him with respect. He could live with that. Even if he lacked the courage to kill himself, he was sure he could find a number of people and demons willing to do it for him. But he had promised Buffy he'd protect Dawn "until the end of the world," and he had meant it.
After a week of wandering around, he knew it was time to return to Sunnydale, to Dawn. Together they would figure out how to go on without Buffy.
When Spike arrived in Sunnydale, he went straight to his crypt to get some blood. When he left there he walked through the cemetery to Buffy's-Dawn's house. He was surprised to run into Willow, Xander and Anya. Out of habit, he looked around them, half expecting to see Buffy with them. Of course, she wasn't.
"What're you kids doing out here?" he asked, "Trying to get yourselves killed?"
Willow answered him. "We've been patrolling while Buffy recovers. Well, sweeping, anyway. By tomorrow night she'll be as good as new, ready to kick some serious vampire-uh-no offense."
"You fixed the robot?" Spike asked incredulously. "I can't believe I'm saying this," he continued, "But isn't that kind of morbid? You can't just replace Buffy. I know. I tried."
The three of them looked at Spike as if he had just grown a second head.
"What?" Spike said in frustration. "I'm right about this. Why are you all looking at me that way?"
"Spike," Xander finally said, "Buffy's . . ."
"Alive," Willow finished. "We brought her back. She wasn't all-the-way dead yet; hadn't crossed over. So Angel and I . . . well it's a long story but she's . . ."
Before Willow could finish explaining, Spike took off running.
When he arrived at the Summers' home, all the lights were off. He considered knocking, briefly.
He crept into her room, silent as a cat, as he had done in the past. He watched Buffy sleep as an array of emotions washed over him. After about an hour, he moved into a chair, sitting with its back in front of him. He crossed his arms over the back of the chair and continued to watch her sleep.
When Buffy awoke, sometime in the predawn hours, Spike was still sitting in the chair, looking at her.
"When I first came to Sunnyhell," he said without preamble, "I came to kill the slayer. Let me be clear, here. I didn't just want your death; I wanted, very much, to cause it. When I couldn't accomplish that, and you failed to dust me I might add, I wanted just to inflict pain on you. I may have given you a nasty bruise or two, but I didn't really meet that goal, either. Then it was sparring with you that I wanted. It kept me in shape and it was always exhilarating. Then I got that chip in my brain." Spike stood up and began to pace.
"To my great horror, I discovered it wasn't hurting you that I missed most. It was touching you. Feeling your power, the sexual energy that surrounds you, the way you're always so certain you're in the right."
He stopped pacing and looked directly at Buffy. Her hair fell loosely across her shoulders and the predawn light illuminated her face just enough that Spike forgot for a moment what he was saying. Finally he said, "And now, well now all I can do is love you."
He gave her a very brief smile, then he quietly left before Buffy could speak.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
A few weeks later, everyone had fallen back into a routine. Buffy, Xander, Willow, Anya and Tara patrolled regularly while Giles stayed with Dawn either at her house or his. Most nights Spike joined them, but occasionally he did his own thing. He and Buffy were civil to each other, but the others could sense a kind of awkward nervousness between them.
One week they had all worked particularly hard to kill off a pack of Seetha demons. The nightly battles had been brutal and left them all bruised and exhausted by the end of it. And so they decided to take a well-deserved and much needed night off and have "movie night." Buffy still wasn't terribly comfortable in her own living room, having found her mother's body on the sofa only a few months earlier. Xander quickly volunteered his and Anya's apartment. As they made their plans at the magic shop that afternoon, Giles said to leave him out of it because he had plans of his own that evening. After they decided on the movies and the snacks, Xander finally asked aloud what everyone else wondered silently. "So, do we invite Spike to join us? We could tell him it's BYOB-Bring Your Own Blood."
"Well, at least he wouldn't hog all the popcorn," Tara said, glancing accusingly but playfully at Willow.
"Do vampires watch movies?" Dawn asked.
"Well, Spike watches 'Passions,'" Buffy offered, silently adding, so did Mom. She was quiet after that because she didn't want Spike to hear from anyone that she wanted him to be there. And so she left her opinions unvoiced.
Willow said, "Spike's been fighting evil just as hard as we have, lately. I think he deserves a night of relaxation as much as we do."
"But it's not like we can call him on the phone to invite him," Anya replied.
"He probably doesn't want to hang around with us, anyway," Dawn said, "Except when he gets to beat up on something."
Buffy looked at her sister and wondered if her cynicism was normal 14-year-old-girl stuff or a result of their mother's death. She made a mental note to be more positive around her.
"I'll swing by his crypt when I go out to rent the movies," Xander said. He tried to sound as if it were the last thing he wanted to waste his time on, but in reality he had come to understand Spike a little better-to the point where he almost liked the guy.
Buffy was pleased that this decision had been reached without her input. She was not ready to admit to anyone, even herself, that she liked having Spike around. And she had never, ever socialized with him. Of course, none of that mattered unless he accepted Xander's invitation. It occurred to her that Xander's 'invitation' might come across as less than inviting, or that Spike might think Xander was just feeling sorry for him. If that happened, Spike was sure not to come.
"Isn't the video rental place on the other side of town from the cemetery?" Buffy asked Xander as nonchalantly as possible.
"Yeah, but it's not that far away," he answered.
"I actually have nothing to do today," Buffy said quickly. Actually, she had bills to write out, laundry to wash and yard work to do, but all that could wait. "I could go and ask him."
"Dawn can come home with me and help me prepare the apartment for movies," Anya interrupted. "I have seating arrangements to make, appropriate hors-d'oeuvres to cook, not to mention lighting issues. And toilet paper! My god, Xander, do we have enough? We'll see you all later," Anya finished, the decision apparently made.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Buffy didn't want to seem too eager. She wanted Spike to think his invitation was an afterthought. They were meeting at Xander's and Anya's at 8:00. At 5:30 she grabbed herself a sandwich, then headed over to Spike's.
When she got there, she hesitated in front of the door. Should she knock? In the end she decided that doing anything out of the ordinary would come across as, well, out of the ordinary. And so she barged in as was her usual habit.
"Surprised to see you, Slayer," Spike said lazily, "I thought you were taking the night off."
He had on brown slacks and a long-sleeved brown shirt, which he was buttoning when she walked in. She pretended not to notice. She tried to sound as casual as humanly possible. "We're going to watch some videos at Xander's and Anya's tonight."
"Are you asking me on a date?" Spike teased.
"No!" Buffy said indignantly. "Xander was going to stop by and ask you but you don't have a phone and he wasn't coming this direction and why am I bothering to explain any of this to you?" She turned and headed toward the door, but stopped in front of it and turned back to face him.
"I've got other plans, anyway," he told her. "I do have my own existence, you know."
"Dawn thinks of you as a big brother."
Spike stopped buttoning his shirt and looked at Buffy.
"It would mean a lot to her if you did something fun with her. Something where neither one of you is thinking about death and the end of the world. She needs . . ."
"And what do you need, Buffy?" he interjected, taking a step toward her.
"I'm fine," she snapped. "Sitting around watching videos is what I need, too."
He thought better of pushing the issue with her. There would be another time. "What time?" he asked finally.
"8:00."
"I'll make an effort to stop by."
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Spike arrived at Xander's and Anya's at 8:15. He had planned on getting good and drunk at the Bronze, but he bagged those plans for this opportunity. He wasn't one of them and he never would be. But he wanted to be around Buffy, and it didn't much matter what the activity was. And he genuinely liked Dawn and it moved him that she thought of him as a big brother. He'd never been anyone's big brother before. He wanted Buffy to wonder whether or not he'd show up, and so he made sure not to get there right at 8:00.
After Xander escorted Spike to the living room, Xander joined Anya on an overstuffed chair. Willow and Tara were sitting together on the loveseat and Dawn and Buffy were on the couch. After a brief, awkward moment of greetings, Buffy slid over on the couch until her shoulders were practically touching Dawn's so that Spike could sit on the other side. Dawn explained to Spike what had already happened on "A Fish Called Wanda," and then everyone fell silent as they watched the movie.
Buffy's unbridled belly laugh was a sound Spike couldn't recall ever hearing before. He felt a tingling sensation in his gut and he inhaled deeply, almost as if he could take that moment inside himself and savor it. He stole a look at her and he thought he might die on the spot from pure joy. In the past Spike had often felt excited, thrilled, intoxicated, disappointed and even terrified. But joy was an emotion totally foreign to him. His heart felt like it was humming, and he held onto that feeling throughout most of the evening.
After "A Fish Called Wanda," they watched "The Matrix." Dawn fell asleep about a half-hour into it, and Willow and Tara nodded off shortly after her. By the end of that movie, Xander and Anya had also fallen asleep. Spike said he was going to step outside to have a quick smoke. Buffy switched off the VCR and put the TV on to some late-night talk show. After about a minute, she went into the kitchen to get herself a drink. After she put the Coke bottle back in the refrigerator, she turned around and was startled to see Spike standing there, fidgeting with an unopened package of microwaveable popcorn.
"I can't do this," Spike told her.
"Uhh," she grunted in exasperation and grabbed the package from his hands. "The directions are right on it," she said, tearing the plastic off of it.
"Not the damn popcorn," he said in frustration, "This."
"What?" if he didn't mean the popcorn, then what the hell was he talking about?
"I can't be one of your 'scoobies,'" he announced.
She was speechless.
"Dawn's pretending I'm human, Willow's pretending I'm one of the gang and you . . . well, you trust me and I thought that was enough. It's not. I can't be your trusted friend."
Buffy's mouth hung open as speech continued to elude her.
"I've got to have it all; the whole Buffy Summers package. I've got to have your heart, your body, your tears and your laughter. If I can't, then it's time for me to walk away; to move on."
Buffy finally decided on an emotion-and it was anger. "I already handed over 'the whole Buffy Summers package' to someone I thought was Mr. Right. So it's gone. I don't have it to give anymore."
"Maybe I'm Mr. Right," Spike challenged her.
"Well, you're late!" Buffy replied, letting the heat of her hurricane of emotions dictate her words.
"Can you honestly stand two feet away from me and not feel the fire between us?" he asked.
"I don't feel it, Spike," she answered.
He took a step closer. "How about now?"
He stood a mere few inches away from her and she found she couldn't meet his gaze. "I like nice men," she said weakly. He reached over and tilted her chin up with his index finger. They stared at each other for a moment in that position, and then he quickly captured her mouth with his own. He had meant it to be a gentle, hesitantly probing kiss, but his passion took over and he kissed her fiercely, hungrily. Before she could push him away, he broke off the kiss and stepped back a little.
"You'll never meet anyone else like me. I'll ask you one last time," he said, "Do we have a chance?"
She wanted to say no. She wanted to be able to send him on his way without any second thoughts. She wanted to tell him she never wanted to see him again and mean it. But she couldn't. She knew she couldn't and the bitch of it was that he knew she couldn't, too.
She knew he expected her to answer 'yes' and give him a hug and a chaste kiss. But the part of her that remembered she was not only the slayer but also a woman wanted to shock that arrogance right off his face. She went to the doorway and peeked into the living room to assure herself that everyone else was still asleep. Then she turned back around and shoved Spike to the floor. The look of shock in his eyes was the reward she had been hoping for. She straddled him, then bent down and stretched out on top of him, covering his body with hers. She looked down at him like a predator eyeing up its prey.
"Looks like someone's got control issues," he hissed. "Alright, then. You win." And with that he relaxed his body and stretched his arms out in a prone position.
She wanted to smack that smug look right off of his face. Instead, his body's sudden surrender to her made her body surge with power and arousal. Some part of her brain knew Spike wasn't powerless, but he seemed so vulnerable beneath her that it disarmed her. She looked at him and realized she was losing control. She had never lost her control in front of Spike before, and it terrified her. She very nearly got up and ran out of the apartment. But she couldn't remember ever running away from Spike, and she wasn't about to start now. She decided, instead, to face her fear and she looked at Spike-really looked at him. She expected to see the soulless, menacing glare of a monster. What she did see in his eyes frightened her even more. She looked for the monster in him, but all she saw was the love. That look of undying, unconditional love that made her draw her breath in sharply. When she continued gazing into his eyes, she saw something else. Just beyond the love in his eyes was desire. Not just a basic, animal desire of a man for a woman, but the need of this man for this woman. She was overcome with emotion.
Spike could see Buffy struggling with her emotions. He had given himself away to her completely, and now he waited to see her reaction to the truth. He had lain himself out for her both literally and figuratively. There was nothing left for him to say or do.
Buffy knew that if she kissed Spike now, there would be no going back. She'd be his completely and they both knew that. There was no such thing as an innocent, one-time-only kiss between them. If she kissed him, it would mean . . .
She kissed him. And the rest of her life began.
The End