Save the Last Dance for Me
By: Passion4Spike
Chapter 49: Mission Accomplished
Chapter Summary:
Buffy and Giles both have talks with Spike about love. Buffy succeeds in ruining Dawn's life.
Buffy descended the stairs into the basement, a warm mug of pig's blood in hand. Spike was sitting on a cot on the far wall, both hands manacled with a long chain to a large, sturdy eyebolt that Xander had installed in the wall just a couple of hours ago. They weren't the Slayer-proof chains, but some that Buffy had from a previous need to restrain her other, now ex, vampire boyfriend some years before. They were longer, giving Spike at least a short at being comfortable. She felt sure they would hold him if the need arose. He was still wearing the army fatigues that Sam had provided. Buffy hadn't gone to his crypt to retrieve any of own clothes yet.
She handed him the mug and pulled a chair up to sit facing him.
"Heard all that," he told her, taking a sip of the blood. He wrinkled his nose at it. After Slayer and Key blood, it tasted like rancid … well, pig.
"Figured," she sighed.
"Thanks fer the … discretion about my … soul or whatever it was – the lark and all that rot."
Buffy gave him an understanding smile. "Well, it really isn't anyone's business but yours, is it? Not even mine."
"It's yours," he disagreed, looking up from the mug to meet her eyes. "It belongs to you, Buffy. I got it for you."
Buffy shook her head. "You already had it before you met me, Spike. It was there. Anya says it's not a soul, but … well, whatever it is or was, I think it came back with you from heaven when you rose."
"Even that was yours, Buffy, before it died. This new one, it's yours, too."
Buffy sighed. "I don't know that much about souls, but I don't think they're interchangeable. Whatever the demon did, he didn't give you a new one. I think he just … resurrected or healed the old one."
Spike shrugged, taking another sip of the blood. "Still yours, pet – new, used, dead or alive. My soul belongs to you, along with my heart, and my hot, tight little body."
Buffy smiled at him, a genuine, heartfelt smile that reached her eyes. Seeing her smile made the pain in Spike's soul lessen just enough to be bearable.
"Love t' see you smile, Buffy," he whispered, his throat tight with emotion. "Know ya haven't had much reason to of late. Know that's my doing."
Buffy looked down at her hands, blinking back her tears. "Warren may have killed me, but you hurt me," she said simply.
Spike's eyes shimmered, and he looked down into the mug between his hands, ashamed. "I'm sorry. I never meant to."
"It hurt that you didn't trust me to help you. That you didn't … love me enough—"
"I love you with my entire being, Buffy. I love you more than there are stars in the sky," Spike swore fervently, cutting her off as he looked back up at her. "That's why I had to go."
Buffy shook her head and looked up at him then. "That doesn't make it hurt any less. You didn't trust me to understand, to forgive you. Am I that much of a monster, Spike, that you thought I wouldn't?"
Spike shook his head, tears leaking down his cheeks. "Not a monster … an angel."
Buffy snorted sarcastically. "I'm no angel, Spike. You should know that better than anyone. You've seen my darkness, up close and personal. You've been on the receiving end of it too many times.
"My hands aren't clean, neither is my soul," Buffy admitted. "I've made lots of mistakes, done a lot of questionable things, some really … really bad things. I've gotten my friends hurt, even gotten some killed … I've …" she hesitated, blinking back a sudden wash of guilt that welled in her eyes and constricted her throat. "I've got blood on my hands, too, Spike. I'll always have those sins to live with, but I can live with them because the people I love, who love me, forgave me. They understood why I did things, even if they didn't agree, they could understand, and they still loved me – warts and all.
"That's all I wanted from you, Spike. To trust me enough to understand, to forgive you, to help you. I just wanted a chance … a chance to … to love you."
Spike shook his head despondently, dropping his gaze again. "I'm sorry, Buffy. I didn't see how you could … how you could ever forgive me."
Buffy reached out and laid a warm hand on his forearm, making him look up to meet her eyes. "And that's what hurts."
He nodded, forcing himself to hold her gaze. "I'm sorry, more than you know."
"I know you are, Spike. I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry that what I've done, how I've acted, made you feel like you couldn't trust me with your pain.
"I know I'm not the world's most sharing person," she admitted. "I'm used to figuring out the right course of action, making decisions on my own and doing it, and damn what anyone else thinks. That's what a Slayer is. The Chosen ONE … not the Chosen committee or family or BFFs. But neither of us can be that way if this is gonna work.
"We aren't alone anymore. We can't keep acting like we are or … we'll just keep hurting each other," she advised sadly.
Spike looked down, abashed. "Now who's givin' advice on love?"
Buffy chuckled a small, sad laugh and rubbed her eyes, trying to make them stop leaking. "When you left, I missed you so much, every second of every minute. It was like I lost an arm … or worse, a … a torso. I don't want to hurt like that again, Spike. I can't take it. My heart can't take it again."
Spike nodded miserably. "I don't know what you're saying, Buffy. Did I hurt ya too much? Do you want me t' go? Are you sayin' … you're done with me? Don't blame ya, of course—"
Buffy jumped up from her chair with a screech of frustration, her hands balled into fists. "NO, DAMN IT!" she screamed at him as she began pacing back and forth in front of the cot. "That's not it at all!
"I'm saying, don't hurt me like that again! I'm saying, talk to me before you go off and do something stupid! I'm saying … you know my goddamned phone number! CALL ME, instead of fucking SAM, when you're in trouble! I'm your goddamned girlfriend! NOT HER!
"What the fuck is it with you two? I've tried to be understanding-girl, tried to not be the jealous bitch who doesn't trust her boyfriend, but what the actual fuck, Spike?! What does she have that I don't? Why didn't you call ME?! Am I that horrible? What's wrong with ME?!" she demanded, trying to sound angry but a tinge of wounded anguish leaked out in her voice.
"Not one fucking time in four goddamned months! But there you are all cozied up with someone else's wife! Is that it? You're trying to fuck her to get back at Finn?"
Spike had plastered his back against the wall when she jumped up, watching her warily as she paced back and forth in front of him, afraid to interrupt, but, when she took a breath he interjected, "I don't know your phone number, pet."
Buffy stopped abruptly and whirled around to face him. "What?"
"I … I never rang you up, just came over. Know the house number, the street, the town o' course … don't know your phone number."
"You called me that time …"
"At the Magic Box, and from a phone booth – got the number out of the book – don't remember it."
Buffy just stared at him, dumbfounded.
"I'm sorry, luv," he apologized again. "Reckon I should've figured out a way … there just weren't any phone directories for the states in Namibia. And … didn't know if ya would even talk to me. Was easier to send letters, then I didn't have to know if you didn't read them.
"Not trying to fuck her, don't want her … not trying to hurt you. Just thought … if something happened to the new soul like happened to the old one, if I had a chip then I'd still be able t' keep my promise to protect Dawn. If ya knew for certain I couldn't hurt anyone, then I thought you'd be able to sleep at night. You could trust me around the nibblet. That's all it was. Wasn't anything more."
Buffy stalked away abruptly, going over to an old chest of drawers that held all kinds of miscellany, and started rummaging through them, finding what she was looking for quickly. She came back and grabbed Spike's manacled left hand, pulling it toward her, palm up.
"805-555-8625," she recited as she wrote it with a permanent marker on his palm.
She looked up at him then, curling his fingers closed over it. "Memorize it," she ordered, before turning and heading for the stairs.
"Does this mean yer still my girl?" he called after her, looking at the number on his palm.
"It means, if you ever kiss Sam like that again, I'll rip your balls off and stuff them down your fucking throat," she called back, as she started up the stairs.
Spike smiled, a warmth wrapping around his aching heart, easing his pain and guilt. He closed his hand over the number protectively, then let out a deep sigh. She was still his girl.
** X-X-X-X-X **
"Buffy, I really need to talk to you." Dawn accosted her in the kitchen when she came out of the basement. "It's a matter of life and death."
Buffy sighed, she really didn't need more matters of life and death than she already had on her plate. "What is?"
"Have you seen the uniform they want me to wear to this stupid school you enrolled me in?" Dawn demanded, holding up a conservative khaki blouse and skirt, with a dark blue blazer over top, to show her sister.
The blouse was a collared, button-up with short sleeves. There wasn't much shape to it, but not terrible. The skirt was a pencil cut that would fall below Dawn's knee – a little out of fashion for the times – okay, probably about fifty years out of fashion. The blazer was dark blue and had the school's emblem on the right breast: a yellow eagle – typical for a private school. There was a tie, too, that Buffy could see wrapped around the hanger, patterned in a loud, blue and yellow plaid.
Overall, Buffy would describe the look as, 'Private School Frump.'
Buffy pursed her lips, placing her hand over her mouth to hide her own revulsion with it. "What's wrong with that? It's very … professional looking."
"What profession? Crazy-cat woman?" Dawn wondered, waving it in Buffy's face. "It's horrible! I can't wear this!
"Why can't I go with my friends to the new Sunnydale High?! Why do I have to go to this stupid school where I don't know anyone and have to dress like a Library Sciences reject?"
"Well, maybe because they built the new one on the ruins of the old one, which is directly on top of the Hellmouth," Buffy suggested reasonably.
"It was okay for you to go there!" Dawn argued.
"Yeah, I'm the Slayer. Kinda goes with the territory. You aren't going to school on the Hellmouth, I don't want you within a hundred miles of the place, Dawnie, so deal," Buffy insisted.
"Well, too late for that! We live, like, four miles away!" Dawn pointed out huffily.
"Then I don't want you within 3.9 miles of the place," Buffy amended, giving Dawn a smug smile and crossing her arms over her chest.
Dawn stomped her foot in frustration, reminding Buffy of a small child who had been told she couldn't have a cookie.
"You'll make new friends, you'll get a good education, and, most of all, you won't be cursed, possessed, or killed by a demon," Buffy pointed out. "Discussion closed."
"Arrrggghhh! I hate you! You're ruining my life!" Dawn screamed, whirling away from Buffy and darting for the living room and then stomping up the stairs to her room.
"Three, two, one …" Buffy muttered to herself before giving a satisfied nod when she heard Dawn's door slam right on time. "Houston, we have blastoff."
Giles stepped into the kitchen from the backyard, looking after the fuming girl. "You must be doing something right," he assured Buffy. "Ruining her life is, after all, your primary mission as guardian."
Buffy snorted a laugh and looked up at him. "Well, mission accomplished. I'm glad I at least have that part of my life handled."
** X-X-X-X-X **
Spike looked up when he heard the basement door open above, hoping Buffy was coming back to spend more time with him. He'd missed her so terribly the last months, and it seemed to be even be worse now that he'd seen her again, touched her, held her, felt her lips against his.
Every moment apart seemed like an eternity to his tortured soul. He wanted nothing more than to be free of these chains, to be at her side this minute, but he knew the risk was too great. No matter how much it hurt him, he couldn't risk hurting anyone else, especially her or Dawn.
Spike sighed when he realized who it was stalking slowly down the steps, and leaned his head back against the wall, letting his eyes fall closed.
"Rupert," he greeted the visitor impassively, his eyes still closed, not looking at the ex-Watcher.
"Spike," Giles replied just as unemotionally, walking slowly over to the chained vampire.
"Planning on usin' that pointy stick on me, are you?" Spike wondered, opening his eyes and looking up at the older man.
Giles gave him a fatherly smile, but his eyes remained steely. He turned the chair around that Buffy had been sitting in and straddled it, lowering himself down to be at eye-level with the vampire.
"I understand you're not fettered by that chip any longer," Giles remarked, not answering the question. "That makes you a threat."
"One thing I always liked about you, Watcher: firm grasp on the obvious," Spike taunted, holding up his chained wrists.
"Buffy tells me you're under someone else's control, as well," Giles continued, ignoring the jibe. "That you've attacked her twice, thus far."
Spike just pursed his lips, sucking his cheeks in, making his cheekbones stand out like razorblades as he maintained eye contact with the man, but didn't answer.
"She also tells me that she loves you, and believes you love her. I'm certain I don't need to tell you that I find that notion repulsive in the extreme. You are not worthy of her on any possible level. But I know from past experience that my opinion on the subject will not sway her."
"Ya got a point, other than that wooden one?" Spike wondered, eyeing the stake that the ex-Watcher was rolling casually between his fingers.
"I do, as a matter of fact," Giles replied. "I may not be Buffy's Watcher any longer, but I assure you that if you hurt her in any way—"
"You'll hunt me down and turn me into the dustiest pile o' dust that ever dusted the dusty cemeteries of Sunnydale," Spike filled in, raising his brows. "Sing me a new one, that one's gettin' old."
Giles shook his head slowly. "No, Spike. I'll hunt you down and make you beg to be a pile of dust. You have no idea what I'm capable of," he informed the vampire in a deadly tone. "If you think Angelus is ruthless, then perhaps I should remind you that I survived him."
Spike nodded slowly, not flinching, holding the Watcher's gaze for a long moment. The vampire leaned forward until he was close enough that he could've strangled the man, even with his wrists fettered. "If I hurt Buffy, then I'll let you," Spike assured him grimly.
Giles held the vampire's eyes, unblinking, for several heartbeats. He finally gave a short nod of his head.
"I believe we understand each other, then," Giles stated before standing up and turning to go.
"I do love her, ya know," Spike called after him.
Giles paused a moment, not looking back, but nodded. "The question is, will that be enough?" he remarked, before disappearing up the stairs.
**END NOTES**
Next: Back to Action! Buffy goes into Spike's psyche to try and sort out what's going on with his soul and The First's hold on him.
Thank you so much for reading! I hope you're still enjoying the story. Please stop in and let me know, I'd seriously love to hear from you! Lots more to come.
Thanks also to my wonderful friend, PaganBaby, for sharing her talents with me. Her beta skillz are the fantabulously and utterly priceless - any mistakes here are mine because I just can't stop fiddling!
Her banner-making creativity and skillz are equally beyond the pale! I can't thank her enough for doing them for me! Love them! She is so damn talented!
