In which Buffy and Spike finally figure out what they want and what they need.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

XXI

The first thing that William noticed when he woke up was that he was not on fire. Secondly, he saw that Buffy was already awake. She was turned towards him, playing with his hair. He didn't even realize his arms were around her waist until he felt the heaviness of her body on his hand.

"Morning," she whispered.

His piercing blue eyes stared into hers, shocked that he was actually lying next to her.

"What's wrong?" Buffy asked.

"Nothing," he said. "I just never thought I would feel this...happy. Just lying here, falling asleep with you. Cor, the way you look right now. I could write some nice poetry about this.

"I get what you mean," Buffy said. "Not that I think I can write poetry, but the feelings I have are definitely of the good and poem-worthy. I wish we could stay here."

"But we can't."

"I know. I'm hoping Anya will be willing to negotiate. Do vengeance demons usually negotiate wishes?"

"Not often, but some are open to the idea of wishes being done for justice."

"We'll let's hope she's all for truth and justice and, well, making sure she doesn't end up on the Slayer's bad side."

Buffy got up out of the bed and looked at herself in the mirror. She grabbed the hairbrush from the nightstand and started fixing her hair. William sat up and watched her as her brush went from the dark roots to the blonde tips. It was like watching gold being spun.

"Hey William?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah?"

"Is it ok if I still call you Spike sometimes?"

"You can call me whatever you want, luv."

She turned to him and said, "Come. Take a look at yourself." She turned his attention to her mirror.

William got out of the bed and walked to Buffy, standing next to her in front of the mirror. He looked at himself with surprise, remembering the coward in glasses and tweed he used to be. His eyes were much brighter than he remembered. The shirt from David Bowie's world tour in 1978 still looked good on him, as did the faded jeans he wore. A memory of his Billy Idol style flashed in his mind, along with the memory of killing Nikki Wood. The guilt from that memory started to sink in.

But then he looked at Buffy, who stood by his side and smiled at him. He knew that the person he was before was still a part of him, as was the demon, but he was willing to change, as long as she was always with him.

XXII

Anya grumbled when she found herself back in the library. However, she noticed a few things. One, Angel was in the book cage, with Faith glaring daggers at him. Drusilla—or Catherine, as she insisted on being called—was sitting with the witch who summoned her, afraid of her. The Watchers were standing towards the left, armed. Buffy and Spike—William, she reminded herself—were standing side by side with very serious looks on their faces. But it was the way that they stood that intrigued her.

"I take it you summoned me again because of your wish?" Anya asked.

"We have," Buffy said. "I think I learned my lesson about making my wishes carefully. However, I still have some vengeance to settle with Angel. He was stalking Catherine and tried attacking my mother last night. I don't think being a human will suit him anymore."

Anya crossed her arms, but grinned, intrigued at what Buffy might be propositioning. "So you want to turn him back into Angelus again?"

"Not exactly. He needs to learn some things about life. And I think you can help him learn the same way you did with me."

"Ah, so you're proposing a justice wish."

"I know that's not exactly your department, but given I'm the Slayer, I want to be fair."

"And what do I get out of it?"

"I'm hoping that what I propose will still hurt Angel because," she turned to look at his agony-ridden face and said "he'll have to live knowing that he will never be with me."

"Ooh, I like it! Your wish is my command, Slayer!"

Buffy turned back to look at Anya and said, "First of all, Catherine needs to remain human. I realize now that she's a victim of circumstances. She told me that there's a convent in Los Angeles where she'll work until she's ready for her first vows. Wesley told me that these sisters are more open-minded about Catherine's visions."

"Done. And what about Angel?"

"I think he's at his best as an ensouled vampire, guilt-ridden curse and all. But I do want to give him the chance to find a way to anchor his soul."

"I know some people in Cleveland who can help," Faith said.

Anya gave Faith a knowing look. "Sounds like you care about him."

Faith folded her arms and looked away from Angel. "So not the case! I just decided that it'll be my job to keep Angel on the straight and narrow so that he doesn't turn back into the sociopathic serial killer guy. That's all."

"Mmm hmm." Anya turned back to Buffy and said, "And what do you want to do about Billy Idol here?"

"Oi! I'm right here! And just so you know, Billy Idol stole his look from me!"

"Calm down, William!" Buffy said, trying to hold back her laughter. "Since this part of my wish involves you, what do you want?"

William looked at Buffy with shock and then put his hands into his pockets, giving an uncertain shrug. "Luv, if you want me to be human, then make it so."

Buffy shook her head. "I don't want to constantly worry about you. I realize now I need someone who can fight by my side, someone I can trust with my life. You've shown that you can do that."

"I can train real hard, Buffy. I don't want to constantly fight my demon in order to be good. And I don't want to be guilt-ridden, either."

"Omigod, would you stop?!" Anya said. "William, even if you were to become a vampire again, you soul will always be with you. You should know that better than anyone else. And Buffy, I'm glad that you've finally learned what you needed. I think I have something that can work out for both of you."

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