NB: Man, have I been building up to this for what seems like forever. Would love everyone's feedback, and thank you to all the lovely people who's reviewed so far!
Willow and Buffy stand in the bright morning sun outside the Magic Box.
"You ready to back me up with some deep scowling?"
"I'm ready to back you up with a lot more than that, Buffy."
The bell above the door jingles in obnoxious joviality, and Willow slams the door behind them.
Xander is sitting at the counter of the till alone.
He smiles pleasantly, as they enter, purposely ignoring the fury writ across both of their faces.
"Hey Birthday Girl. Have a fun night?"
"The night was fine," Buffy glowers, balling her hand into her fist, "it's what I woke up to that I have a major problem with."
His smile doesn't budge from his face, but the glassy look that comes into his eyes on top of it boils Buffy's blood.
"I think we really need to have a little chat, Xander."
"Really?" He chuckles, "that's a first. You're not usually about for the frank discussions."
"Do not turn this back around on me. You tried to kill Spike. In my house. What the hell were you thinking?"
A steely look comes into Xander's eyes, a evil glimmer of contempt.
"Yeah you know, that's a question that keeps coming back around in my head too, Buff. What the hell were you thinking. We drag you back from what we assumed were the firey pits of hell and instead of being back with us, starting your life over, you spend it making friends with the likes of him. You invite him back into our lives. He's in your house, he's looking after your sister. It's disgusting. What the HELL are you thinking?"
"You fought side by side with him when I was gone. You had no problem with him taking care of Dawn-."
"But I never forgot what he was Buffy! He's a monster. A serial killer held back by a fucking microchip in his skull. Is that really the type of person you're comfortable with having in your life? I was sort of under the impression that your standards were a little higher than that."
"Who I'm friends with and what I do with my time is absolutely NONE of your business."
"It used to be! Christ, Buffy I've been there for you, by your side, fight after fight, and now what, you're pushing me out? Because yet another vampire flashes his baby blues at you? What is WRONG with you?"
"What's wrong with me? Are you serious? Losing my mother, sacrificing myself in front of my sister, being pulled out of the only happiness I've ever known in my entire life? Am I supposed to just shrug all of this of? I'm the Slayer, but I'm still person, Xander! You have no idea how hard it's been-"
"I get that it's been hard for you being back. I really really do. But you should've come to us, Willow and me, about it. What you're doing with Spike is sick, Buffy," he glances at Willow and glares, "aren't you going to back me up here?"
Willow clenches her teeth.
"Oh wow, do you not want to bring me into this right now."
"You have absolutely no idea what's going on with me, or with Spike-" Buffy growls before being cut off again.
"No I know plenty. I saw it all last night. The whole beautiful show."
"You've gone this far off the deep end because what, he gave me a birthday present? Is that seriously what we're talking about?"
"Not that Buff, Twilight Zone-esque as that was. I'm talking about you on your knees in his crypt. That's an image I'll have seared into my mind for the rest of my natural life. Some birthday present. Really."
The color drains out of Buffy's face, and Willow reals.
"Oh God, Xander." She mumbles from behind Buffy.
"Oh God," Spike gasps.
"Spike-"
"Tara... for the love of God, what the hell is going on?" He hasn't taken his eyes off the reflection in the mirror attached to the door.
That's my face. Jesus Christ when did I last see my own face? The scar... I had no idea it was... Dru tried to draw it once, but it just turned into a flock of birds...
He takes a breath, feeling his heartbeat pounding through him, painfully twisting its way through his veins.
Forgot. How did I forget what my own face looks like?
Blue eyes. Did I really forget I had blue eyes? They look like mother's eyes...
His heart clenches in a sudden surge of homesickness and grief.
Still have her eyes...
"You're soul, i-it's-"
"This can't be my soul, Tara. Angel never had a sodding reflection. This- this is something else. I have a heartbeat for Christ's sake. This isn't just my soul worming it's way back in, it can't be."
"It's not, bu-but it is part of.. of the- the."
"The what?"
"The- uh the-"
"Spit it out, Glinda." There's a razor sharp edge to his voice but his eyes are swimming with panic.
"...The miracle."
Buffy stares at Xander with absolute disgust.
"You... were watching?"
Xander blinks, realising what he's just said.
"I-"
"You WATCHED THE WHOLE THING?"
"No- Not like that-"
"God... I thought I knew you."
"Buffy you DO know me! Come on, this is just- this is Spike. He's crawled his way into your head somehow, it's some kind of vampire thrall, or spell or something. It's not your fault, it's not real. Don't you understand that? You can trust me- I'm your friend. Haven't you always been able to trust me?"
Willow laughs a hollow cold laugh.
"Well, that brings us neatly to the next point."
Xander turns, having partially forgotten she was there.
"What are you talking about, Will?"
"Being honest, Xander. That's what I'm talking about. "Kick His Ass"? Those words sound familiar? Because they sure as hell don't sound familiar to me. They didn't come out of my mouth, they came out of yours."
"I don't think I followed you round that series of bends there, Will-"
"Angel, Xander." Buffy's eyes are on fire, burning through him like a flaming sword through butter, "Will gave you a message. And you didn't give it to me. You say I can trust you? I'm really struggling to see it right now."
Realisation dawns on Xander's face.
"I did that for your own good, Buff."
"You WHAT?"
"You were blind! You never saw how dangerous your beloved boyfriend was! Our entire lives were about to be sucked into the hellmouth, Buffy! Was I just supposed to sit back while you put your doomed relationship with him above all of us?!"
"Oh so this isn't about me not trusting you, this is about you not trusting me? Weak, lovesick Buffy can't be depended on to make the ultimate sacrifice to save the world?! Are you fucking kidding me?!"
"It's not like that, I just thought you could do without the distraction when you were battling to save us all-"
"That was not your decision to make Xander! You don't get to decide something like that!"
"BULLSHIT! You play a stall-for-time tactic and he kills you and where would we be then?! Not here, that's for damn certain! You might not like it but I had your back then. We had no idea whether Willow would've been able to push his soul back in. It's not like she had the biggest success rate!"
Willow's face floods with rage. She feels a crackle inside her as her magic starts to beat loudly, cracking open like yolk from a shell. A couple of black veins whisper across her face. She takes a couple of deep breaths, pulling herself away from it.
"So what you're like some deranged Watcher-in-training now?" Buffy laughs in disbelief. "Give Buffy only half the information to play for the outcome you want? Even Giles would give me all the facts Xander! I'm the Slayer! Me, not you! I'm sorry if that interferes with whatever major inferiority complex you have but you don't get to control me like that!"
"Right. Sure. I'm controlling. That must be why I chained you up in a dungeon, and built a walking talking sex toy in your image, and kidnapped Willow to make a love spell for my ex- OH NO, no no, wait- That would be your current love interest."
He yanks his coat from off the back of the chair, which topples over and crashes to the floor. He barges past Willow. The bell tinkles and is drowned out by the slam of the door, leaving Willow and Buffy in the sudden deafening silence of the shop.
Willow takes a shuddering breath.
"Wow. Never been so close to turning someone into a toad before. Good thing I'm teetotal or that could've been a big cliche."
Buffy sneers bitterly. "Yeah, it's a miracle."
"It's a what!?"
"It's a miracle. B-by technical standards."
"Explain, Tara. Thoroughly. What do you mean a miracle?"
"It's Buffy. No-no one has ever come back from the dead after making it through Heaven's Gates. It's supposed to be a... A sort of lock on the soul. On her soul. It's a big part of why even with resurrections and, and magic that people are still sort of in the dark about what's on the other side. It's usually a one way street. What Willow did, unintentionally, was open a portal in heaven and pulled Buffy through it."
"So?"
"So that's against the rules. A mortal soul wouldn't survive that, it would fracture. But for some reason, maybe because of her Slayer destiny, Buffy's survived. As a result she- she can change elements that would otherwise be irreversible."
"My soul, you mean?"
Tara shakes her head, soft blonde hair rippling like a river.
"Your humanity."
Spike reels. The ground underneath his feet feels suddenly like sand in a hour glass, pouring away from beneath him. He sits down carefully in a chair at Tara's dinner table. His hands are shaking.
"You're... saying she's making me human?"
"No."
His brow furrows, trying to play catch up from several squares of the board behind.
"What?"
"You'll never be human. Whatever demon took control of you, that can't be removed. But she's building a human shell around it."
"Then why is my soul not permanent? Why isn't that taking root?"
"Because it doesn't belong to you anymore. It belongs to her."
Spike flinches, feeling tears start to sting his eyes. Tara sits down next to him.
"Help a fellow out here Glinda. Am I just... Am I going to feel like I'm broken apart for the rest of my life, whatever's left of it? Is this it?"
"It's up to her. The... The shell she's building, it needs a soul. While she's got yours on a leash, tied to her, it can't fill that hole. But it's a hole that needs to be filled. And if she lets you go, you'll lose it. All of it."
"Tara... what do I do? Can you please just tell me, clearly, whatever the point is you're trying to get to."
Tara takes a breath, gathering her words carefully.
"There's... there's an old ritual. Older than time. An exchange. She takes your soul, to keep. To have. You take hers."
What little color is left in Spike's face leeches out of him.
"You're not talking about-"
"For better, for worse" Tara smiles sadly, "for richer for poorer. I-In sickness... and in health."
Spike swallows hard. He's shaking badly and he props his elbows up on the table, resting his head on his hands.
"And if she says no? If that's not something she can give back?"
"...It's all or nothing."
It's all or nothing.