Lost and Foundering
~**~**~
Chapter Three
~**~**~
When Buffy, Dawn and Tara arrived at the shop, a dark-haired young man
and a tawny-haired woman were already there, waiting for them. The man
smiled instantly and came over, with the woman trailing behind.
Tara pulled Buffy forward, giving her an encouraging smile. "Buffy, th-
this is Xander and Anya, his fiancée. Willow told you about them."
"Oh, yes! Hi there," she held out her hand, which Xander stared at in
puzzlement.
"Um, would it be okay if I gave you a hug, Buffy?" He asked, looking
somewhat pained. "If you don't want to, that's okay..."
"No, that's fine." Buffy opened her arms and he pulled her in tightly,
though it surprised her that she hardly felt the pressure. Eventually
he released his hold on her and Buffy looked over to Anya.
"Uh, do we hug, too?"
Anya smiled. "Well, no, we don't. But since it's a big emotional event,
I suppose we should."
"Okay then," Buffy gave her a crooked, uncertain grin. Anya walked up
and gave her an awkward hug and pat on the shoulder.
"Glad you're back, Buffy. I, uh, have to finish counting the receipts,
so..."
Buffy sensed her reluctance to stay, so she replied, "Don't mind me. Go
count."
"Okay!" Anya beamed, and quickly headed back over to the counter.
Xander fidgeted in embarrassment. "She's, um, really glad to see you.
It's just so overwhelming for her, you understand."
"No problem. I get the overwhelming part." She nodded absently, and the
conversation died an unnatural death. Eventually Tara suggested sitting
down at the table to talk, and soon everyone was clustered around, with
Buffy facing the door and her sister and Tara flanking her.
Xander was attempting to make small talk when the door opened up, and
Willow walked in, followed by a guy who must have been the winner of a
Billy Idol look-a-like contest, only much cuter than the original.
"That's Spike," Dawn whispered into her ear, but she'd already known it
was him. If anyone radiated "dangerous vampire", it was this guy. The
pale skin and black clothes were a clear giveaway in Southern
California.
"Uh huh," was all Buffy was able to utter, as she stared at the vampire
who was now staring back at her.
****
It was amazing. Incredible. His gaze locked with hers, relief and joy
bursting from within, demanding release. From the way she was watching
him, he could almost swear she recognized...
...But no. Will had explained to him that Buffy knew of the gang. As
the only remaining person in the inner circle immediately on hand, it
was simple math, nothing more. He smiled at her in delight, and she
echoed it genuinely. Oh yeah...she didn't remember him at all.
Willow was glaring daggers at his side, so he tore his gaze from Buffy
long enough to give her a reassuring look. Xander wasn't too happy
himself from the way he was acting, but Spike knew it was part of the
show and dance he put on for the rest of the group. Heaven forbid that
Xander actually display friendship to him, but if he needed a partner
for pool, or an ear for his problems, Spike was his man.
Not that Spike didn't appreciate the group's protectiveness of Buffy--
that was partly why he liked them. It was just that they didn't seem to
realize that Buffy didn't need to be protected from him; he'd rather
die than hurt her needlessly.
With Willow's unspoken acceptance, Spike walked over to the table, more
nervous than he'd ever been in either life or unlife. "Um, hi Buffy. I
know you don't remember me--"
He stopped as she got up from the table. "It's okay, I know who you
are--Dawn told me when you walked in. And I know this'll seem majorly
weird to you, but I just want to do this before you say anything else."
As Buffy walked up to him, Spike braced himself for the blow. When he
felt her arms slip around him and tighten in a hug, he blinked in
surprise. He glanced to a smiling Dawn, then to a shocked Willow,
suddenly remembering his promise not to hug or kiss the newly returned
Buffy.
She gave him a gesture that he took to mean, "Reciprocate, you moron!",
and he did gladly, wrapping his arms around her and holding her
lovingly, like the most precious item a man could ever possess.
****
Buffy had expected the tenseness from him, which was now melting away
as he relaxed into her embrace, but not the cold. Thanks to Willow, she
knew that vampires were members of the undead, with no soul, heartbeat,
or warmth...however, the reality was so odd as to be incomprehensible.
And it was weird to think it, but it was almost kind of nice, once she
got past the initial alarm and concern.
There was a power to him that she hadn't felt from Xander, and
intellectually she knew it was the vampiric strength Willow had
mentioned earlier that day. It was why she was so strong--she had to
be, in order to fight them as the Slayer. So why was he so friendly and
kind, when the other ones weren't?
She heard a female cough come from Willow's direction, and Buffy felt
Spike pull away hesitantly. She let her arms linger around him for an
extra second, then did likewise and nearly succumbed to the temptation
of giving Willow a withering glare.
Then it suddenly struck her. Were Willow and Spike...together? If so,
then her supposed best friend had some explaining to do, since she had
all but ignored telling her about it. Buffy filed that away as
something to ask about later. Summoning her resolve, she focused back
on Spike and finished what she meant to say.
"Dawn told me what you've done for the both of us, and while I don't
understand the how of it, I just wanted to thank you for enduring the,
the torture and me being a total jerk to you, and everything. You...you
don't hold it against me, do you?"
Spike just looked at her like she was crazy, an epidemic that spread to
the rest of the group. "No, love. I wouldn't ever hold it against you,"
he replied in an incredulous voice, though his face held nothing but
gratitude and...something more. Her mind danced around what it was
until Willow approached the two of them, not looking happy at all.
"Buffy, Dawn told you about that?" The witch spared a glance at the
girl, who shrunk under her gaze.
"Yeah, she did. Why? Wasn't I supposed to know?" Buffy cringed as the
question came out snottier than she intended.
"I'm just trying to ease you into your past--which is complicated and
bizarre enough on its own--and jumping around with the info doesn't
help. Did she tell you *why* you were acting that way to him, before?"
Buffy looked back to Spike, who was very uneasy at this new direction
in the conversation. "No, not exactly. She said I had a good reason,
but she didn't go into details."
Willow waffled visibly between anger and compassion, then said, "Well,
Spike *is* a vampire. He's been one for over 120 years."
"Yeah, I know. I can do the math. At a few people a week, that would be
thousands of people, at least. I understand that, and it's far from a
pleasant thought. But from what I know, if he were really and truly
evil, then he wouldn't have been hanging around and helping for the
past two years, would he? Not to mention bringing him here to see me,"
Buffy added for Willow's benefit, and the witch ducked her head,
caught. "So, I don't see what he could've done recently that would make
me hate him so much that I treat him like dirt--after he's been
tortured--and yet still have him as a part of this weird little
vampire-fighting group. Or am I missing the point completely?"
The dark-haired guy blew out a frustrated breath. "You don't remember,
Buffy, that's why you're not getting it. Right now to you, all this--
they're just facts. But we lived through it all, and we can't say it
meant nothing."
"I'm not saying it means nothing...Xander," Buffy recalled just in
time. "It's just that, Dawn didn't think he was bad, so I don't 'get'
why I have to be a bitch of the fifth degree. Unless you want to
explain to me what was so horrible that it made me hate him that much."
She folded her arms and waited, expecting someone to step forward with
the awful truth. To her surprise, it was Dawn who stood up in obvious
distress.
"Buffy, no one would ever claim Spike was good back in the day, but we
know he's changed. He's not evil anymore."
Spike made a protesting noise. "Niblet, don't make me out to be some
kinda hero, here. I'm a vampire, and I'm...well, I don't know what, but
it's definitely not good."
"Yeah, the evil dead here has a point, not that I tend to agree with
him or anything," Xander said, his shoulders hunched as if he could
disclaim his own words by physical means.
Willow gave him a curious look, then added, "Spike's right, Dawn. You
can't make him into something he's not. He's done a lot of bad things
in the past."
Buffy felt uncomfortable at the rising temper in the room, not meaning
to start a debate. She opened her mouth to say something to calm them,
but Dawn spoke first.
"In the *past*, Willow. He hasn't done anything remotely evil for
months, and even then, it wasn't huge. I mean, c'mon--the worst thing I
can think of is the whole thing with Adam, and he saved you guys from
that demon in the end."
Xander's face darkened. "That's only because we would have staked him,
otherwise."
Dawn rolled her eyes. "Hel-lo! You would've been dead! Even I know
that, and I wasn't even there! He could've just walked away and left
town, leaving you to die. But he didn't."
The others looked around in puzzlement, unsure if her point was valid.
The vampire in question pondered it for a while, surprise clearly
written on his face. "Uh, I hadn't really thought of that. I just,
y'know, saw 'em there and jumped the demon. Didn't think of heroics at
the time."
"See? That's what I mean! You didn't think first, but it was still the
right thing to do. You were doing not-evil stuff even back then."
Spike shook his head, apparently stunned or in disbelief at the
concept. The others didn't look convinced either. Buffy's sister,
obviously disgusted with them all, threw up her hands in anger.
"Fine. Don't believe me. I'm not really important, anyway...just a
shell of a person who--" she glanced at Buffy with tears forming in her
eyes, stopping herself. "Anyway. Just...never mind."
Dawn stomped back into an unseen room, and Buffy wasn't sure if she
should follow. Spike gently brushed past her, intending to follow the
girl wherever she led.
Buffy turned back to the group, Willow at least having the ability to
look contrite. All the rest were a mixture of confusion, nervousness,
and concern. She faced the group with her arms still crossed, and said,
"I think it's about time someone told me the rest of the story."
****
He found her sitting down in the couch along the back wall, wiping
tears hastily from her eyes. The only illumination came from behind
him, but he could see her perfectly in the darkened room. He reached
for the light switch, but Dawn's voice called out, "Leave them off."
"All right then," Spike replied, not really sure what to do next. "You
want the door open?"
She shrugged, so he closed the door, walked over and sat down next to
her on the couch, waiting for inspiration to come. Light filtered in
from a nearby streetlight through the high windows along the back wall,
just enough for shapes to emerge in the darkness of the room. It was
almost calming, he mused, if you were into that sort of thing.
Dawn ended up talking first, instead. "You...you didn't even defend
yourself in there. I know you used to think of yourself as the Big Bad,
but you know better by now, right?"
His hand drifted unconsciously towards her head, but he pulled it back
when he realized she was staring at him. He couldn't play it off as
anything else, however, so he brought it back with some awkwardness.
"It's what I am. I won't try to pretend I'm not a monster."
It felt...almost nice to rest his hand on her head, if just for the
briefest of seconds. After that, it came down to her shoulder and
stayed there. Dawn looked at him in gratitude, but still wasn't happy.
"I know what you've done; I'm not stupid. But you're not a monster to
me. And I just wanted Buffy to see you the way I do, even if it's only
for a little while."
The sentiment caught Spike entirely off-guard. His hand pulled away and
suddenly he was standing up, trying to stop the emotions he shouldn't
be having--couldn't be having at all. It was wrong, he was a vampire,
and...and evil. Yes, he could still say it. It didn't fill him with
relief, however, which only disturbed him more.
"Dawn, you can't--you shouldn't *say* things like that."
"Why not?"
"Because I *am* a monster. And even if you've got the best intentions
in the world, it'll never last. Once she realizes the truth, it'll be
over. Plus, it only gets me thinking of things I'd be better off not
thinking about."
"Spike, I don't believe that." He stared at her, incredulous. She gazed
back with that strong will he admired and replied, "I don't. If Buffy
could get to know you the way I do, maybe she would like you better
once she had her memories back. Or if that doesn't happen, she would be
able to know you without all the prior baggage and stuff."
He chuckled at that, amazed at this opportunity presented at his feet.
An unknowing Buffy, with a sister willing to show him in the best
possible light. It was an offer he didn't deserve. "Buffy will remember
some day, little bit. I'm sure of that. And if she was ever going to
love me, it'll be a Buffy who remembers everything about her and me. I
won't make a mess of this like I did...before." He didn't need to
explain. Dawn knew exactly what he meant.
A horrifying thought went through his mind, and he whirled back to face
the girl on the couch. "Dawn, you didn't tell her I...that I--"
"Love her? No, I didn't. I remember how that went the first time I told
her." Spike glared at the young girl, and she winced in embarrassment.
"Oh, you didn't know? I, uh, I was the one that told her about it. She
didn't have a clue."
He forgave her easily; what was done, was done. "Funny, I always
thought she...but that's not important," he shook his head, clearing
the stray thoughts. "As long as she can't remember, I don't see a
reason why she needs to know."
Dawn nodded in agreement, almost a little too quickly. Spike added,
"And no scheming behind my back, got it?"
She groaned, and he allowed himself a smile at catching the girl's
intentions. Dawn agreed to that as well, and stood up to face him.
"I take it all back--you are a meanie," she said with a dramatic pout,
and he clapped her on the back, guiding her back into the shop.
"Now you're getting it," he replied with an affectionate grin.
****
In the space of time before the vampire and her sister came back in,
Buffy was getting the hastily put-together version of her and Spike's
past. It did throw her opinion of him into a tailspin, but she couldn't
ignore the fact that it was the past, not to mention her own lack of
memory made the facts seem a little more distant.
"So this chip--it's what makes him nice, right?"
"Not exactly," Xander replied, looking a bit disappointed at the truth.
"All it does is prevent him from hurting people. He can still hurt and
kill demons, though."
Buffy tapped her lip thoughtfully. "And he's had this chip for about
two years, which is when he started helping us out--"
"--for money," Anya interjected.
"Right, for money, but he still didn't really do anything like what he
used to do, from what you've told me. What I don't understand is why he
took care of Dawn when he doesn't have a reason to do so."
Buffy felt the air stir behind her, and turned to see Spike and Dawn
standing there. His face had the fading remnants of a smile, while
Dawn's sulky look was quickly replaced by self-consciousness.
"I think I can answer that, pet," Spike replied, focusing completely on
her. "You asked me to."
The tense mood that had gathered in the room vanished, but it didn't
stave off her own concern. "But why would you do anything for me? From
what they said, you aren't exactly a member of the Buffy fan club."
The blond vampire stared at the others in the room in disbelief, and
Buffy felt even more self-conscious than Dawn looked. There was
something being danced around here, but what was it?
"Look, if I've stepped on some toes here, just tell me, okay? I don't
want to start any serious chasms of friendship," she added, but
Willow's discontent was still obvious. "Willow, Spike--was the hugging
thing a faux pas?"
Spike started with, "No--" but Willow superceded him with, "Well, it
wasn't exactly the best...that is, it wasn't the sort of thing you
normally would've done. Y'know, if you had your memories." Spike landed
his gaze firmly on the redhead, and they shared an unspoken
conversation, one that gave Buffy the distinct impression her prior
suspicion about the two of them was correct.
"I'm sorry, if I'd known...I mean, that you and Spike were..." Buffy's
hands flailed in desperation.
"Me and Spike...? You mean--" Willow broke off in astonishment, then
added hastily, "Oh, no, Buffy, there is no such thing. It's me and
Tara."
"Oh." Then the true meaning sunk in. "Oh! Oh, you mean, you and Tara
are...and so you're not...um, okay. Never mind, then."
Purposefully avoiding Spike's look of horrified amusement, she heard
Willow suggest going back to the house and letting her rest for the
night. Buffy nodded in agreement, and gave up trying to sort this all
out in light of her overwhelming embarrassment.
This whole thing with Spike was bugging her, however. They weren't
telling her something, but she didn't know what. If they weren't
willing to tell her, then she might need to go directly to the source.
****
Willow allowed Spike to walk home with the four of them, and tried not
to pay attention as her best friend stared after the retreating vampire
with a look that seemed more conflicted than not. She was going to make
sure that Buffy knew everything about Spike, even if she had to bring
in the vampire in question to fill in the blanks.
Dawn took Buffy upstairs, while Tara lingered in the foyer, not sure
what to do. For the first time, Willow noticed how uneasy the other
woman felt, and came over to rub her arm lovingly.
"Hey, you. What's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing," Tara shook her head. "It's just...with Buffy in the
house, I feel like a third wheel, you know? Dawn and Buffy can take of
each other, and besides, I feel like I'm intruding on their privacy."
"Nonsense. Buffy might be back, but she still feels like she's fifteen.
And with two fifteen-year-olds in the house, they'll need someone to be
the grown-up," Willow smiled, and Tara returned the gesture.
"Are you going back home?"
The redheaded witch winced at the lonely tone in her lover's voice. "I
better, since I have to work early tomorrow. I also want to check out
some remembrance spells, see if that might jog Buffy's memory."
Tara frowned in a way that Willow recognized as worry. "Don't you think
it's a little early for that? M-maybe we should just wait, and see what
happens naturally."
Willow sighed in resignation. "Okay, yeah. You're right, we better
wait. I just wanted to fix it, that's all."
"I know you do. But we have to be careful with casting spells--not
everything can be corrected through magic, you know. Sometimes nature
is best."
Tara kissed her lightly, then headed upstairs to her room, leaving
Willow behind with a growing sense of helplessness and frustration.
****
Rather than heading home to his crypt, Spike wandered over to the
Bronze for a bit of celebration, in a way only the bar could provide.
The place was packed, even at this early hour, but he found himself a
good spot at the bar to people-watch and enjoy the ambiance. He was
halfway through his first beer when he recognized a shaggy mop of dark
hair heading in his direction. He wasn't surprised in the least to see
the Harris boy here--a part of him wondered if he'd come here expecting
it, but he shook that melancholy thought away before it took root in
his head.
"It's times like these that I wish I was twenty-one, already," Harris
started without preamble, but Spike was used to it by now. Such
pleasantries as 'hello' or 'good-bye' weren't a part of the
conversational vocabulary where he was concerned.
"Need a drink?"
"Oh yeah. But since it can't be booze, a nice, stiff Dr. Pepper if you
please, good barkeep," the boy said, slapping the countertop and
drawing an unguarded look of contempt from the bartender. Spike
smirked, but hid it by taking another gulp of his beer.
Xander got his drink and stood there, shuffling his feet in a gesture
Spike interpreted as a desperate need to talk. He finished off the rest
of his beer, set the mug on the counter and said, "C'mon, let's have
it."
"You, uh, wanna shoot some pool?"
Spike shrugged. "Sure. Loser pays for the next round?"
"Hell no! I might've been stupid enough to fall for that twice, but not
a third time."
"You got me there, Harris. I've been bloody outwitted and all my
nefarious plans have been exposed." Spike paused, then added, "Best two
out of three?"
Xander took a gulp of Dr. Pepper. "Okay."
Spike had to admit, the boy lost beautifully. First round went quick
when Xander accidentally knocked the eight ball into a corner pocket.
The second round, he never got to shoot anything other than the
breaking shot. Harris ponied up for another beer and even some onion
petals that made up for the loss of the onion flower on the menu, but
he sternly told Spike they weren't for him and if any were missing by
the time he came back from the restroom, he'd be meeting the pointy end
of a freshly carved stake.
Xander never missed the ones Spike ate while he was gone. Whether it
was a backhanded gesture or not, the vampire didn't question it. If the
boy was stupid enough to leave his onion petals unguarded, then it only
served him right if a few gotten eaten here and there.
Somewhere along the line, the conversation had wandered into Xander's
day at work. It might have been truly horrible, but since Spike had
never really had a job, he had no frame of reference.
"And the worst thing is," Xander was saying, "is that the project
manager *knew* the drywall contractors were running over schedule, but
did he tell us? No, not the carpenters! We, who end up getting dumped
on and pushed to speed it up because some nimrod blew his scheduling
and so now, the finish carpentry guys are the ones that pay."
"Positively criminal," Spike replied, not really caring and only half-
listening. He lined up a shot and used the boy's ranting as white
noise.
"But I can't leave, 'cause I've got this whole big scary marrying thing
in my future, you know? I have to be stable, responsible. It's worse
than facing Spaora demons in a dark alley. Or half the football team
after you've put itching powder in their jock straps."
The shot was true, and the nine ball sunk easily into a side pocket.
"So, you're getting cold feet already?"
"Nah, it's just...new territory for the Xanman. The next to final
frontier. Anya's already talking about our 'spawn', and what they'll be
named. She's also been reading about how having sex in different
positions can..." Spike narrowed his eyes, and Harris stopped himself.
"Right. Too much information."
Spike never volunteered thoughts or opinions during these sessions, but
with Buffy's return, there was a need to converse, to exult in the joy
that came from having her back and alive. Harris must have noticed the
change, because for once he had shut his mouth and only stood there,
waiting for whatever might come.
The vampire gazed out at the pool table as if lining up another shot,
but his hands fiddled with the pool cue, betraying his cool exterior.
"I never thought I'd see her again. None of us did, of course, but I
just was resigned to it, y'know? I would've given anything to have her
back, just for a day, and now it's so..." Words failed him, and he
cursed and dug out a cigarette. He lit it, took a drag from it and blew
out a slow, smoky breath. "Doesn't matter that she's not all present
and accounted for yet. It'll come, I know it."
"You know this...whatever it is she feels for you, it's only
temporary."
"Yeah, I'm not stupid. Unlike others I could name in the immediate
vicinity," Spike breathed out, and the boy only frowned. "It's tempting
to indulge in the fantasy, but reality is a brutal and harsh mistress.
Better not to go there, than find yourself on a path leading to nothing
but devastation."
"I hear ya," Xander replied in what Spike figured was a momentary and
reflexive morsel of sympathy. "Fantasy is nice, but reality is where we
live...even if it *is* the Hellmouth."
Spike nodded in amusement. It was true enough--the Hellmouth had its
own brand of wackiness that defied description. This caused the notion
that Buffy's resurrection was a temporary side effect of the Hellmouth
phenomenon to creep into his mind, and it sobered him. The boy noticed
the change, but Spike waved it away, knowing it to be nothing more than
an idle thought. Or so he hoped.
The idea must have unsettled him more than he thought, because his next
shot missed the intended target completely. Harris started in
amazement, but said nothing. As the boy moved around the table, eyeing
up his possibilities, he said, "I wish I could believe Buffy's memory
will come back, eventually. I can't help shaking the thought that it's
all gone, permanently deleted forever."
"How d'you figure?"
"Well, there's always a price to these things; if Willow's spell-
casting has shown me anything, it's that the big magicky stuff takes it
toll. And resurrecting someone from the beyond...well, the memory loss
is a whole bunch of payment right there."
"You're saying someone brought her back, then," Spike replied,
intrigued.
"Maybe, maybe not. We might never find out. But the possibility can't
be ruled out. I have to admit, having Buffy here...it's great, but
creepy at the same time. Without knowing how or why she's alive, I
don't know if I can...if I should let myself be happy about it. You
know?"
Spike let out a deep sigh, then nodded. "There's nothing else to do but
hope for the best. And make sure the worst doesn't happen."
Xander didn't appear to be convinced that the last could be done, but
said nothing. The rest of the game was spent in relative silence, and
afterwards Spike left to return to the cemetery, suddenly needing a few
kills tonight, to banish the haunting thoughts and notions in his head.
~**~**~
Chapter Three
~**~**~
When Buffy, Dawn and Tara arrived at the shop, a dark-haired young man
and a tawny-haired woman were already there, waiting for them. The man
smiled instantly and came over, with the woman trailing behind.
Tara pulled Buffy forward, giving her an encouraging smile. "Buffy, th-
this is Xander and Anya, his fiancée. Willow told you about them."
"Oh, yes! Hi there," she held out her hand, which Xander stared at in
puzzlement.
"Um, would it be okay if I gave you a hug, Buffy?" He asked, looking
somewhat pained. "If you don't want to, that's okay..."
"No, that's fine." Buffy opened her arms and he pulled her in tightly,
though it surprised her that she hardly felt the pressure. Eventually
he released his hold on her and Buffy looked over to Anya.
"Uh, do we hug, too?"
Anya smiled. "Well, no, we don't. But since it's a big emotional event,
I suppose we should."
"Okay then," Buffy gave her a crooked, uncertain grin. Anya walked up
and gave her an awkward hug and pat on the shoulder.
"Glad you're back, Buffy. I, uh, have to finish counting the receipts,
so..."
Buffy sensed her reluctance to stay, so she replied, "Don't mind me. Go
count."
"Okay!" Anya beamed, and quickly headed back over to the counter.
Xander fidgeted in embarrassment. "She's, um, really glad to see you.
It's just so overwhelming for her, you understand."
"No problem. I get the overwhelming part." She nodded absently, and the
conversation died an unnatural death. Eventually Tara suggested sitting
down at the table to talk, and soon everyone was clustered around, with
Buffy facing the door and her sister and Tara flanking her.
Xander was attempting to make small talk when the door opened up, and
Willow walked in, followed by a guy who must have been the winner of a
Billy Idol look-a-like contest, only much cuter than the original.
"That's Spike," Dawn whispered into her ear, but she'd already known it
was him. If anyone radiated "dangerous vampire", it was this guy. The
pale skin and black clothes were a clear giveaway in Southern
California.
"Uh huh," was all Buffy was able to utter, as she stared at the vampire
who was now staring back at her.
****
It was amazing. Incredible. His gaze locked with hers, relief and joy
bursting from within, demanding release. From the way she was watching
him, he could almost swear she recognized...
...But no. Will had explained to him that Buffy knew of the gang. As
the only remaining person in the inner circle immediately on hand, it
was simple math, nothing more. He smiled at her in delight, and she
echoed it genuinely. Oh yeah...she didn't remember him at all.
Willow was glaring daggers at his side, so he tore his gaze from Buffy
long enough to give her a reassuring look. Xander wasn't too happy
himself from the way he was acting, but Spike knew it was part of the
show and dance he put on for the rest of the group. Heaven forbid that
Xander actually display friendship to him, but if he needed a partner
for pool, or an ear for his problems, Spike was his man.
Not that Spike didn't appreciate the group's protectiveness of Buffy--
that was partly why he liked them. It was just that they didn't seem to
realize that Buffy didn't need to be protected from him; he'd rather
die than hurt her needlessly.
With Willow's unspoken acceptance, Spike walked over to the table, more
nervous than he'd ever been in either life or unlife. "Um, hi Buffy. I
know you don't remember me--"
He stopped as she got up from the table. "It's okay, I know who you
are--Dawn told me when you walked in. And I know this'll seem majorly
weird to you, but I just want to do this before you say anything else."
As Buffy walked up to him, Spike braced himself for the blow. When he
felt her arms slip around him and tighten in a hug, he blinked in
surprise. He glanced to a smiling Dawn, then to a shocked Willow,
suddenly remembering his promise not to hug or kiss the newly returned
Buffy.
She gave him a gesture that he took to mean, "Reciprocate, you moron!",
and he did gladly, wrapping his arms around her and holding her
lovingly, like the most precious item a man could ever possess.
****
Buffy had expected the tenseness from him, which was now melting away
as he relaxed into her embrace, but not the cold. Thanks to Willow, she
knew that vampires were members of the undead, with no soul, heartbeat,
or warmth...however, the reality was so odd as to be incomprehensible.
And it was weird to think it, but it was almost kind of nice, once she
got past the initial alarm and concern.
There was a power to him that she hadn't felt from Xander, and
intellectually she knew it was the vampiric strength Willow had
mentioned earlier that day. It was why she was so strong--she had to
be, in order to fight them as the Slayer. So why was he so friendly and
kind, when the other ones weren't?
She heard a female cough come from Willow's direction, and Buffy felt
Spike pull away hesitantly. She let her arms linger around him for an
extra second, then did likewise and nearly succumbed to the temptation
of giving Willow a withering glare.
Then it suddenly struck her. Were Willow and Spike...together? If so,
then her supposed best friend had some explaining to do, since she had
all but ignored telling her about it. Buffy filed that away as
something to ask about later. Summoning her resolve, she focused back
on Spike and finished what she meant to say.
"Dawn told me what you've done for the both of us, and while I don't
understand the how of it, I just wanted to thank you for enduring the,
the torture and me being a total jerk to you, and everything. You...you
don't hold it against me, do you?"
Spike just looked at her like she was crazy, an epidemic that spread to
the rest of the group. "No, love. I wouldn't ever hold it against you,"
he replied in an incredulous voice, though his face held nothing but
gratitude and...something more. Her mind danced around what it was
until Willow approached the two of them, not looking happy at all.
"Buffy, Dawn told you about that?" The witch spared a glance at the
girl, who shrunk under her gaze.
"Yeah, she did. Why? Wasn't I supposed to know?" Buffy cringed as the
question came out snottier than she intended.
"I'm just trying to ease you into your past--which is complicated and
bizarre enough on its own--and jumping around with the info doesn't
help. Did she tell you *why* you were acting that way to him, before?"
Buffy looked back to Spike, who was very uneasy at this new direction
in the conversation. "No, not exactly. She said I had a good reason,
but she didn't go into details."
Willow waffled visibly between anger and compassion, then said, "Well,
Spike *is* a vampire. He's been one for over 120 years."
"Yeah, I know. I can do the math. At a few people a week, that would be
thousands of people, at least. I understand that, and it's far from a
pleasant thought. But from what I know, if he were really and truly
evil, then he wouldn't have been hanging around and helping for the
past two years, would he? Not to mention bringing him here to see me,"
Buffy added for Willow's benefit, and the witch ducked her head,
caught. "So, I don't see what he could've done recently that would make
me hate him so much that I treat him like dirt--after he's been
tortured--and yet still have him as a part of this weird little
vampire-fighting group. Or am I missing the point completely?"
The dark-haired guy blew out a frustrated breath. "You don't remember,
Buffy, that's why you're not getting it. Right now to you, all this--
they're just facts. But we lived through it all, and we can't say it
meant nothing."
"I'm not saying it means nothing...Xander," Buffy recalled just in
time. "It's just that, Dawn didn't think he was bad, so I don't 'get'
why I have to be a bitch of the fifth degree. Unless you want to
explain to me what was so horrible that it made me hate him that much."
She folded her arms and waited, expecting someone to step forward with
the awful truth. To her surprise, it was Dawn who stood up in obvious
distress.
"Buffy, no one would ever claim Spike was good back in the day, but we
know he's changed. He's not evil anymore."
Spike made a protesting noise. "Niblet, don't make me out to be some
kinda hero, here. I'm a vampire, and I'm...well, I don't know what, but
it's definitely not good."
"Yeah, the evil dead here has a point, not that I tend to agree with
him or anything," Xander said, his shoulders hunched as if he could
disclaim his own words by physical means.
Willow gave him a curious look, then added, "Spike's right, Dawn. You
can't make him into something he's not. He's done a lot of bad things
in the past."
Buffy felt uncomfortable at the rising temper in the room, not meaning
to start a debate. She opened her mouth to say something to calm them,
but Dawn spoke first.
"In the *past*, Willow. He hasn't done anything remotely evil for
months, and even then, it wasn't huge. I mean, c'mon--the worst thing I
can think of is the whole thing with Adam, and he saved you guys from
that demon in the end."
Xander's face darkened. "That's only because we would have staked him,
otherwise."
Dawn rolled her eyes. "Hel-lo! You would've been dead! Even I know
that, and I wasn't even there! He could've just walked away and left
town, leaving you to die. But he didn't."
The others looked around in puzzlement, unsure if her point was valid.
The vampire in question pondered it for a while, surprise clearly
written on his face. "Uh, I hadn't really thought of that. I just,
y'know, saw 'em there and jumped the demon. Didn't think of heroics at
the time."
"See? That's what I mean! You didn't think first, but it was still the
right thing to do. You were doing not-evil stuff even back then."
Spike shook his head, apparently stunned or in disbelief at the
concept. The others didn't look convinced either. Buffy's sister,
obviously disgusted with them all, threw up her hands in anger.
"Fine. Don't believe me. I'm not really important, anyway...just a
shell of a person who--" she glanced at Buffy with tears forming in her
eyes, stopping herself. "Anyway. Just...never mind."
Dawn stomped back into an unseen room, and Buffy wasn't sure if she
should follow. Spike gently brushed past her, intending to follow the
girl wherever she led.
Buffy turned back to the group, Willow at least having the ability to
look contrite. All the rest were a mixture of confusion, nervousness,
and concern. She faced the group with her arms still crossed, and said,
"I think it's about time someone told me the rest of the story."
****
He found her sitting down in the couch along the back wall, wiping
tears hastily from her eyes. The only illumination came from behind
him, but he could see her perfectly in the darkened room. He reached
for the light switch, but Dawn's voice called out, "Leave them off."
"All right then," Spike replied, not really sure what to do next. "You
want the door open?"
She shrugged, so he closed the door, walked over and sat down next to
her on the couch, waiting for inspiration to come. Light filtered in
from a nearby streetlight through the high windows along the back wall,
just enough for shapes to emerge in the darkness of the room. It was
almost calming, he mused, if you were into that sort of thing.
Dawn ended up talking first, instead. "You...you didn't even defend
yourself in there. I know you used to think of yourself as the Big Bad,
but you know better by now, right?"
His hand drifted unconsciously towards her head, but he pulled it back
when he realized she was staring at him. He couldn't play it off as
anything else, however, so he brought it back with some awkwardness.
"It's what I am. I won't try to pretend I'm not a monster."
It felt...almost nice to rest his hand on her head, if just for the
briefest of seconds. After that, it came down to her shoulder and
stayed there. Dawn looked at him in gratitude, but still wasn't happy.
"I know what you've done; I'm not stupid. But you're not a monster to
me. And I just wanted Buffy to see you the way I do, even if it's only
for a little while."
The sentiment caught Spike entirely off-guard. His hand pulled away and
suddenly he was standing up, trying to stop the emotions he shouldn't
be having--couldn't be having at all. It was wrong, he was a vampire,
and...and evil. Yes, he could still say it. It didn't fill him with
relief, however, which only disturbed him more.
"Dawn, you can't--you shouldn't *say* things like that."
"Why not?"
"Because I *am* a monster. And even if you've got the best intentions
in the world, it'll never last. Once she realizes the truth, it'll be
over. Plus, it only gets me thinking of things I'd be better off not
thinking about."
"Spike, I don't believe that." He stared at her, incredulous. She gazed
back with that strong will he admired and replied, "I don't. If Buffy
could get to know you the way I do, maybe she would like you better
once she had her memories back. Or if that doesn't happen, she would be
able to know you without all the prior baggage and stuff."
He chuckled at that, amazed at this opportunity presented at his feet.
An unknowing Buffy, with a sister willing to show him in the best
possible light. It was an offer he didn't deserve. "Buffy will remember
some day, little bit. I'm sure of that. And if she was ever going to
love me, it'll be a Buffy who remembers everything about her and me. I
won't make a mess of this like I did...before." He didn't need to
explain. Dawn knew exactly what he meant.
A horrifying thought went through his mind, and he whirled back to face
the girl on the couch. "Dawn, you didn't tell her I...that I--"
"Love her? No, I didn't. I remember how that went the first time I told
her." Spike glared at the young girl, and she winced in embarrassment.
"Oh, you didn't know? I, uh, I was the one that told her about it. She
didn't have a clue."
He forgave her easily; what was done, was done. "Funny, I always
thought she...but that's not important," he shook his head, clearing
the stray thoughts. "As long as she can't remember, I don't see a
reason why she needs to know."
Dawn nodded in agreement, almost a little too quickly. Spike added,
"And no scheming behind my back, got it?"
She groaned, and he allowed himself a smile at catching the girl's
intentions. Dawn agreed to that as well, and stood up to face him.
"I take it all back--you are a meanie," she said with a dramatic pout,
and he clapped her on the back, guiding her back into the shop.
"Now you're getting it," he replied with an affectionate grin.
****
In the space of time before the vampire and her sister came back in,
Buffy was getting the hastily put-together version of her and Spike's
past. It did throw her opinion of him into a tailspin, but she couldn't
ignore the fact that it was the past, not to mention her own lack of
memory made the facts seem a little more distant.
"So this chip--it's what makes him nice, right?"
"Not exactly," Xander replied, looking a bit disappointed at the truth.
"All it does is prevent him from hurting people. He can still hurt and
kill demons, though."
Buffy tapped her lip thoughtfully. "And he's had this chip for about
two years, which is when he started helping us out--"
"--for money," Anya interjected.
"Right, for money, but he still didn't really do anything like what he
used to do, from what you've told me. What I don't understand is why he
took care of Dawn when he doesn't have a reason to do so."
Buffy felt the air stir behind her, and turned to see Spike and Dawn
standing there. His face had the fading remnants of a smile, while
Dawn's sulky look was quickly replaced by self-consciousness.
"I think I can answer that, pet," Spike replied, focusing completely on
her. "You asked me to."
The tense mood that had gathered in the room vanished, but it didn't
stave off her own concern. "But why would you do anything for me? From
what they said, you aren't exactly a member of the Buffy fan club."
The blond vampire stared at the others in the room in disbelief, and
Buffy felt even more self-conscious than Dawn looked. There was
something being danced around here, but what was it?
"Look, if I've stepped on some toes here, just tell me, okay? I don't
want to start any serious chasms of friendship," she added, but
Willow's discontent was still obvious. "Willow, Spike--was the hugging
thing a faux pas?"
Spike started with, "No--" but Willow superceded him with, "Well, it
wasn't exactly the best...that is, it wasn't the sort of thing you
normally would've done. Y'know, if you had your memories." Spike landed
his gaze firmly on the redhead, and they shared an unspoken
conversation, one that gave Buffy the distinct impression her prior
suspicion about the two of them was correct.
"I'm sorry, if I'd known...I mean, that you and Spike were..." Buffy's
hands flailed in desperation.
"Me and Spike...? You mean--" Willow broke off in astonishment, then
added hastily, "Oh, no, Buffy, there is no such thing. It's me and
Tara."
"Oh." Then the true meaning sunk in. "Oh! Oh, you mean, you and Tara
are...and so you're not...um, okay. Never mind, then."
Purposefully avoiding Spike's look of horrified amusement, she heard
Willow suggest going back to the house and letting her rest for the
night. Buffy nodded in agreement, and gave up trying to sort this all
out in light of her overwhelming embarrassment.
This whole thing with Spike was bugging her, however. They weren't
telling her something, but she didn't know what. If they weren't
willing to tell her, then she might need to go directly to the source.
****
Willow allowed Spike to walk home with the four of them, and tried not
to pay attention as her best friend stared after the retreating vampire
with a look that seemed more conflicted than not. She was going to make
sure that Buffy knew everything about Spike, even if she had to bring
in the vampire in question to fill in the blanks.
Dawn took Buffy upstairs, while Tara lingered in the foyer, not sure
what to do. For the first time, Willow noticed how uneasy the other
woman felt, and came over to rub her arm lovingly.
"Hey, you. What's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing," Tara shook her head. "It's just...with Buffy in the
house, I feel like a third wheel, you know? Dawn and Buffy can take of
each other, and besides, I feel like I'm intruding on their privacy."
"Nonsense. Buffy might be back, but she still feels like she's fifteen.
And with two fifteen-year-olds in the house, they'll need someone to be
the grown-up," Willow smiled, and Tara returned the gesture.
"Are you going back home?"
The redheaded witch winced at the lonely tone in her lover's voice. "I
better, since I have to work early tomorrow. I also want to check out
some remembrance spells, see if that might jog Buffy's memory."
Tara frowned in a way that Willow recognized as worry. "Don't you think
it's a little early for that? M-maybe we should just wait, and see what
happens naturally."
Willow sighed in resignation. "Okay, yeah. You're right, we better
wait. I just wanted to fix it, that's all."
"I know you do. But we have to be careful with casting spells--not
everything can be corrected through magic, you know. Sometimes nature
is best."
Tara kissed her lightly, then headed upstairs to her room, leaving
Willow behind with a growing sense of helplessness and frustration.
****
Rather than heading home to his crypt, Spike wandered over to the
Bronze for a bit of celebration, in a way only the bar could provide.
The place was packed, even at this early hour, but he found himself a
good spot at the bar to people-watch and enjoy the ambiance. He was
halfway through his first beer when he recognized a shaggy mop of dark
hair heading in his direction. He wasn't surprised in the least to see
the Harris boy here--a part of him wondered if he'd come here expecting
it, but he shook that melancholy thought away before it took root in
his head.
"It's times like these that I wish I was twenty-one, already," Harris
started without preamble, but Spike was used to it by now. Such
pleasantries as 'hello' or 'good-bye' weren't a part of the
conversational vocabulary where he was concerned.
"Need a drink?"
"Oh yeah. But since it can't be booze, a nice, stiff Dr. Pepper if you
please, good barkeep," the boy said, slapping the countertop and
drawing an unguarded look of contempt from the bartender. Spike
smirked, but hid it by taking another gulp of his beer.
Xander got his drink and stood there, shuffling his feet in a gesture
Spike interpreted as a desperate need to talk. He finished off the rest
of his beer, set the mug on the counter and said, "C'mon, let's have
it."
"You, uh, wanna shoot some pool?"
Spike shrugged. "Sure. Loser pays for the next round?"
"Hell no! I might've been stupid enough to fall for that twice, but not
a third time."
"You got me there, Harris. I've been bloody outwitted and all my
nefarious plans have been exposed." Spike paused, then added, "Best two
out of three?"
Xander took a gulp of Dr. Pepper. "Okay."
Spike had to admit, the boy lost beautifully. First round went quick
when Xander accidentally knocked the eight ball into a corner pocket.
The second round, he never got to shoot anything other than the
breaking shot. Harris ponied up for another beer and even some onion
petals that made up for the loss of the onion flower on the menu, but
he sternly told Spike they weren't for him and if any were missing by
the time he came back from the restroom, he'd be meeting the pointy end
of a freshly carved stake.
Xander never missed the ones Spike ate while he was gone. Whether it
was a backhanded gesture or not, the vampire didn't question it. If the
boy was stupid enough to leave his onion petals unguarded, then it only
served him right if a few gotten eaten here and there.
Somewhere along the line, the conversation had wandered into Xander's
day at work. It might have been truly horrible, but since Spike had
never really had a job, he had no frame of reference.
"And the worst thing is," Xander was saying, "is that the project
manager *knew* the drywall contractors were running over schedule, but
did he tell us? No, not the carpenters! We, who end up getting dumped
on and pushed to speed it up because some nimrod blew his scheduling
and so now, the finish carpentry guys are the ones that pay."
"Positively criminal," Spike replied, not really caring and only half-
listening. He lined up a shot and used the boy's ranting as white
noise.
"But I can't leave, 'cause I've got this whole big scary marrying thing
in my future, you know? I have to be stable, responsible. It's worse
than facing Spaora demons in a dark alley. Or half the football team
after you've put itching powder in their jock straps."
The shot was true, and the nine ball sunk easily into a side pocket.
"So, you're getting cold feet already?"
"Nah, it's just...new territory for the Xanman. The next to final
frontier. Anya's already talking about our 'spawn', and what they'll be
named. She's also been reading about how having sex in different
positions can..." Spike narrowed his eyes, and Harris stopped himself.
"Right. Too much information."
Spike never volunteered thoughts or opinions during these sessions, but
with Buffy's return, there was a need to converse, to exult in the joy
that came from having her back and alive. Harris must have noticed the
change, because for once he had shut his mouth and only stood there,
waiting for whatever might come.
The vampire gazed out at the pool table as if lining up another shot,
but his hands fiddled with the pool cue, betraying his cool exterior.
"I never thought I'd see her again. None of us did, of course, but I
just was resigned to it, y'know? I would've given anything to have her
back, just for a day, and now it's so..." Words failed him, and he
cursed and dug out a cigarette. He lit it, took a drag from it and blew
out a slow, smoky breath. "Doesn't matter that she's not all present
and accounted for yet. It'll come, I know it."
"You know this...whatever it is she feels for you, it's only
temporary."
"Yeah, I'm not stupid. Unlike others I could name in the immediate
vicinity," Spike breathed out, and the boy only frowned. "It's tempting
to indulge in the fantasy, but reality is a brutal and harsh mistress.
Better not to go there, than find yourself on a path leading to nothing
but devastation."
"I hear ya," Xander replied in what Spike figured was a momentary and
reflexive morsel of sympathy. "Fantasy is nice, but reality is where we
live...even if it *is* the Hellmouth."
Spike nodded in amusement. It was true enough--the Hellmouth had its
own brand of wackiness that defied description. This caused the notion
that Buffy's resurrection was a temporary side effect of the Hellmouth
phenomenon to creep into his mind, and it sobered him. The boy noticed
the change, but Spike waved it away, knowing it to be nothing more than
an idle thought. Or so he hoped.
The idea must have unsettled him more than he thought, because his next
shot missed the intended target completely. Harris started in
amazement, but said nothing. As the boy moved around the table, eyeing
up his possibilities, he said, "I wish I could believe Buffy's memory
will come back, eventually. I can't help shaking the thought that it's
all gone, permanently deleted forever."
"How d'you figure?"
"Well, there's always a price to these things; if Willow's spell-
casting has shown me anything, it's that the big magicky stuff takes it
toll. And resurrecting someone from the beyond...well, the memory loss
is a whole bunch of payment right there."
"You're saying someone brought her back, then," Spike replied,
intrigued.
"Maybe, maybe not. We might never find out. But the possibility can't
be ruled out. I have to admit, having Buffy here...it's great, but
creepy at the same time. Without knowing how or why she's alive, I
don't know if I can...if I should let myself be happy about it. You
know?"
Spike let out a deep sigh, then nodded. "There's nothing else to do but
hope for the best. And make sure the worst doesn't happen."
Xander didn't appear to be convinced that the last could be done, but
said nothing. The rest of the game was spent in relative silence, and
afterwards Spike left to return to the cemetery, suddenly needing a few
kills tonight, to banish the haunting thoughts and notions in his head.