Lost and Foundering
~**~**~
Chapter Eight
~**~**~
The sunset faded into twilight as Buffy watched out the front window,
trying to reassimilate all her memories into a cohesive whole, despite
the headache that continued to nag her. She could recall everything
from the past few days, and her first impressions with the people she'd
known for five years. The differences stood out as a stark contrast,
ones she couldn't afford to ignore.
Xander, who she could fondly remember now, had seemed distant and
abrasive as she got to know him a second time. He was her friend, no
doubt, but the camaraderie of old had faded, and it amazed her that she
hadn't seen it until now. His life was now about his construction job
and his upcoming wedding to Anya. Once that happened, they would move
in together, eventually buy a house, have children, and grow farther
and farther apart from their high school friends.
Her best friend Willow had been there for her, protecting her as
always, but a lot of what Tara said was true. Her view of Willow was
rooted in their longtime friendship, and it had blinded her to the
dangerous pattern of behavior Willow was exhibiting. She hoped it
wasn't too late to stop her friend from delving any deeper, possibly
into arcane areas that she shouldn't be in. The memory of what the
Voice had said about magic needing a price to be paid sent shivers up
her spine, not wanting to contemplate what this could mean for Willow.
Her sister Dawn...it was hard to fathom that their relationship would
never be the same again, not in the way it used to be. Instead of being
the bossy older sis, she'd had the chance to connect with Dawn as a
friend and confidante. Now, she didn't have the doctored memories the
monks had given her, so her sister became an abrupt entry into her
life. Nearly everything she shared with Dawn as a sister was gone, but
maybe it was possible to salvage something and make a new start.
With Giles, Anya, and Tara, the changes of opinion had been small, but
noticeable. Her Watcher was not the dutiful father figure she'd
originally ascribed to him; instead, she now saw him as an older man
who'd been burdened with a task most would have balked at taking. His
job had been to train her as a Slayer, then keep watch and advise her
until she died and the next Slayer was called. Now she could see that
asking him to be the parental figure for Dawn had been a mistake, one
that asked too much from him.
Anya was still Anya, no surprise there, but there had been positive
change, of a sort. As for Tara, it surprised her that she'd grown so
attached to the woman, when before she merely considered her the girl
that Willow was in love with. Now she could see why, and it left her
genuinely happy for her best friend.
Lastly, there was Angel to consider. Looking back on her comments to
him when he'd arrived, she felt horrible over what she'd said. In
retrospect, however, it was true--she and Angel were over. It might
have been a cruel way to make the point, but she didn't have an
overwhelming need to see him again. He'd have to be told about her
memory coming back, but other than that, she was content in how things
stood. For the first time, she felt free from the shadow of their old
relationship.
The sun had completely set now, leaving only a glimmer of palest violet
clinging to the horizon. Her friends continued to chatter, the earlier
jubilance restored and continuing on without her, overjoyed with her
complete return. As she stared out the window, she wasn't so sure about
her own happiness anymore. Had it been better the other way?
Maybe that's what the Powers had wanted all along...a way to relieve
her burden by wiping away the unpleasant memories, starting over new,
untainted. Or maybe they knew her memories would be restored at some
point, and they were trying to show her a lesson about her own
perspective on her friends and family. Either way, she figured that
she'd been manipulated into the agreement, but she couldn't say she was
ungrateful. She had a new chance at life, and she had every intention
of seizing this precious opportunity for all it was worth.
****
As soon as the darkness took over, Spike was out the crypt door and off
to Buffy's house, ready to either escort her wherever she needed, or to
stay awhile and enjoy her and Dawn's presence as they watched something
on TV.
The lights in the house were on, which meant they were still home.
Someone was at the window, as well...it looked like it was Buffy, and
he was proved right when she finally caught sight of him, then turned
away into the light.
He turned the corner into her yard with an unrepressed grin, but his
mood dampened slightly when he realized it wasn't just Buffy and Dawn
in the house. Giles' and Harris' car were in the driveway, and he could
hear their voices coming from inside. Well, it spoiled his plans a
little bit, but they weren't unsalvageable.
He jumped up the steps and knocked on the door twice. It opened almost
immediately onto Buffy, who appeared to be nervous for some reason...
...And then he saw it. True recognition was in her eyes, the way she
stood, how her hands and arms tightened in his presence. Somehow, some
way, she remembered everything--and that included the kiss they'd
shared in his crypt only a couple days ago.
He took a step back, cut to the quick. He knew it would happen
eventually, but it was too soon...now the closeness they'd shared was
gone, erased irrevocably by the knowledge that shone in her eyes. This
Buffy knew he was a monster, and not a man.
"Spike..." Buffy said, her voice sounding uncertain.
"No, it's--I have to, I ought to go. You should be with your friends,
now that you can..." He choked up, then gave her a watery, apologetic
smile. "I'm glad your memories are back, Buffy."
He turned and walked away before he said something else, terrified of
what might come out of his mouth if he stayed. He didn't dare look
back, certain that Dawn was the only one who would miss him.
****
Buffy watched as he turned and left, unable to move or say anything in
response. Her mind was poring over everything that had churned up when
she'd spotted him from the window.
Of them all, Spike had been the biggest change in opinion for her.
She'd been putting it off, not wanting to deal with the thoughts she'd
had in her amnesiac state--never mind the actions--but it was
inevitable.
She shut the door and leaned her forehead against the jamb, ignoring
the odd looks her friends must be giving her. This was all so screwed
up. She wanted to catch up to him, but she didn't know what she would
say. Who could she talk to about this? Willow would freak if she knew
about her kiss with Spike, but she was her best friend, so if not her,
then who...?
Buffy felt a hand on her shoulder and looked over to see Dawn watching
her, concern etched clearly on her face. She smiled back, knowing it
was a weak attempt. It was hard to look at her sister, aware of the
loss of those memories. She could still feel that fierce protectiveness
at work, but she knew now that if she hoped to have a future
relationship with Dawn, she had to be more than the bossy older sister.
It was time to renew the friendship they had begun.
"Dawn, could we go upstairs?" She pleaded. Dawn gave her a confused
look, then shrugged, which for her was the equivalent of being in
agreement.
They settled into Buffy's room, ignoring the crowd of people still
remaining in their living room, bewildered at the secrecy. Dawn crossed
her arms as she sat down on the bed.
"Okay, spill."
And spill Buffy did, letting the anxieties and the confusion out in a
torrent of words. Her feelings were torn two different, seemingly
irreconcilable ways. The situation with the chip muddied the waters
even more, and his own behavior made matters worse.
"First he was evil, then he was snarky but harmless, and now he's nice
and almost sweet in a very un-Spike-like way. He didn't even lie to me
when I couldn't remember what he was like. What makes this even tougher
is that when I only saw him as he is now, without the memories, I
started to...like him. In a definite boy-girl way."
Dawn smirked in satisfaction. "Yeah, I could see that going on. What
else?"
"Well, I didn't tell anyone about this, but when I went to see him
after he was tortured, I kind of kissed him." When Buffy saw Dawn's
eyes bug out, she added, "Nothing smooshy, it was just something to
thank him. However, while he told me about this, I wanted to know what
it was like since I couldn't remember...so I kissed him. Except this
time it was more than gratitude."
Her sister's eyes bugged out at this scrap of news. "Oh, wow. But, when
did this happen? I don't remember you guys being alone for that long."
"I snuck out of the house to talk to him and make him tell me
everything about his past, and he did. Even stuff I'd never heard
before. He didn't try anything, either. But now, there's this ickiness
where I realize I wasn't seeing all the changes he'd been through. I
was letting the past dictate my opinion of him, and I know how I felt
about him while not being able to remember...well. It's all a mess, a
big, confusing mess."
"Buffy, it's not so confusing," Dawn replied, shaking her head.
"It's not?"
"C'mon. Are you running for the Miss Clueless award, or what? You like
him, and you know you like him. Are you still hung up about him being a
vampire, even though he's shown that he's not the same?"
"Well, that's the thing. I don't know anymore. One part of me is
screaming at me to run after him, but the other part says that path
will only lead to more pain and suffering."
"Buffy, *life* is pain and suffering. If there's one thing I've learned
in the past few months, it's that you have to take what joy you can get
when it's there. If you don't, you end up wasting it. I regretted so
much when you were gone, Buffy. I wished I'd done so many things
differently. I don't want to see that happen with you, especially if it
means sacrificing happiness. You wanted us to live, for you. Now I want
you to do the same for yourself. Please, give it a try."
Buffy considered Dawn's plea and seriously thought it over. It wasn't
easy to let go of the dreams she'd had since before high school, ones
where she had a normal life and never worried about anything more
serious than car payments or bills. She always believed those dreams
were dead, but they'd never left, not completely. It was time to truly
move on, past the ruins of her early Slayer years and her relationships
with Angel and Riley, past the hurt and pain she'd held in for so long.
"Maybe I'm afraid that this time, it *would* work out. What an irony
that would be, huh?" Buffy mused, and started to stroke Dawn's hair.
"When did my little sister become so wise?"
"Hey, it happens," she grinned, then added, "Now, are you going to sit
there, or are you going to find Spike and get this all straightened
out?"
"Right. Time to end this, once and for all." Buffy winced and held the
side of her head. "Well, just as soon as I take some more painkillers."
****
He'd thought about going to the Bronze first, then decided against it
in case Buffy and her friends went there to celebrate. Instead, he
ended up at his crypt, not so long after he'd left it.
What a difference a few minutes made. He'd been higher than a cloud
when he'd left, but coming back, it felt like no drainage ditch or
tunnel was low enough for his mood. He couldn't bring himself to drown
his sorrows, and he wasn't in the mood for violence. So he flipped on
the TV and sat down to watch whatever he could manage to get with a
halfway decent reception.
It didn't help. Frustrated, he turned it off and sat back down in his
chair, trying to will the pain away. He shouldn't have hoped, shouldn't
have wanted more than what he'd gotten. She remembered him now, and he
was grateful for it...the Buffy he loved was completely back, and while
he had been nice to have her close, even friendly, he knew it would be
temporary. He could only hope that she wouldn't hurt him for the nice
little snog they'd had in the crypt.
The sound of knocking intruded on his thoughts, but before he could say
something nasty, he realized that someone had *knocked* on his door
before entering. Who did that, nowadays? Willow, or Dawn...?
"Come in," he called out in minor incredulity at the politeness, which
grew into major disbelief as he saw the culprit. He stood up from the
chair in amazement.
"Buffy, what--?"
"I need to talk to you, before someone finds me and tries to talk me
out of this," she began nervously, even worse than she'd been at the
house. What on earth did she have to be nervous about?
"Pet, I understand what's happened. I knew it would come back
eventually, and I should have known better than to--what I mean is, I
shouldn't have let you--"
"No, I know what happened. I was there." She smiled tentatively, then
sighed and walked a little further into the crypt. "I kissed you.
Twice, if you count the one by the window, and I do."
He watched her in bafflement as she wandered over, stopping when she
was close enough to reach out and touch him. "Spike, I'm not entirely
sure of everything just yet. I don't even know if--if I can keep the
house, or what to do about school. I wanted to take poetry in the fall,
but I can't afford it, not anymore..."
"You like poetry?" He interrupted, sure that he must have misheard her.
Her eyes lit up at the question. "Oh, definitely. I was taking it last
year, but I couldn't finish the class because of the bitch goddess's
sucky timing. We were just going through the 19th century, with the
English poets first, I think."
Their eyes met, and he could see that she was remembering what he'd
told her about his past, his *true* past. "Spike, why didn't you tell
me the truth? About you as a human?"
"I didn't think it would be good for the Big Bad image. Spike's not as
impressive when everyone knows he's a sappy poet, is he?" He shook his
head sadly, "If you knew me, saw who William really was...you would've
laughed."
"I didn't laugh when you told me."
"That was different; you didn't remember me, then."
"I remember you now...do you see me laughing?"
It started to sink in that something was definitely occurring,
something that might even be in his favor. "No, I don't."
Why she wasn't laughing at him soon became apparent, because she was
leaning in and kissing him lightly, the gesture taking him completely
by surprise. She broke it off soon after, and he was left standing
there, looking at her as if someone had taken possession of her body.
"W-what was that for?"
She was smiling, as if she took delight in seeing him off-balance.
Maybe she did. "To thank you for the way you behaved when I couldn't
remember you. You didn't take advantage of me, and you could have."
"No, I couldn't. Not when you weren't the Buffy I knew." Her eyes
searched his for an explanation, so he tried to clarify. "Yeah, it was
you after all, and I loved seeing you so happy and carefree. But in the
end, what I want can only come from a Buffy who knows what I am. I
couldn't take it from you, not when it wasn't yours to give."
This time, the kiss wasn't so unexpected, but the passion behind it
truly threw him for a loop. He pulled her in, his hands roaming along
her back as she leaned in, her arms moving from his shoulders to his
neck, tugging him down closer, deeper.
After a long time, she finally pulled free, a thoroughly satisfied look
on her face. Before he could say anything, she said breathlessly,
"That's so you know it's me."
Spike stared back at her, amazed. As the grin crept across his face, he
closed his eyes and began to recite, "O, that you were yourself! but,
love, you are/ No longer yours than you yourself here live:/ Against
this coming end you should prepare./ And your sweet semblance to some
other give./ So should that beauty which you hold in lease/ Find no
determination; then you were/ Yourself again after yourself's
decease..."
He opened his eyes to find her staring at him in awe. Somewhat taken
aback, he replied a bit sheepishly, "It's from one of Shakespeare's
sonnets; number thirteen, I believe."
"And you just...knew that off the top of your head?"
"Well, I'd read it beforehand, a few days ago. It reminded me of you."
"That was--wow."
"Not exactly love poetry, I'll grant you, but you'll have to give me
time for that. It won't be as good, but it won't be another man's
words, at least."
Had he just promised to write her mediocre love poetry? He half-
expected to see a glare of reproof coming from her, but instead she
merely grinned as if it was the most wonderful thing she'd ever heard.
Spike was entirely confused in a wonderful, giddy way, but he wasn't
sure if Buffy herself realized what had happened between them. Somehow,
she was holding on to him, loving him if not in love with him, smiling
and thrilled beyond anything he'd ever seen from her.
"Buffy, not that I'm complaining here, but what's happened? You don't
smell of alcohol, and your eyes aren't glassy." He peered into her eyes
as if looking for divination into her mood. "You're not under some sort
of spell, are you?"
Hurt crossed her face for a split second, before her demeanor changed
and she began to chuckle, a deep laugh that made him join in with her.
After catching her breath, she replied, "No, no spell here, not this
time. This is all me, one hundred percent Buffy, standing in front of
you. She's kinda had an epiphany, you might say."
"Really? Do tell," he urged.
"Well, when I came here, I was pretty much planning to have a talk with
you, hash things out, make a tentative step forward. But when you said
you couldn't take from me, what I hadn't given to you...I realized that
it was time for me to give back to you. Here you've been, giving of
yourself to Dawn and me, and the rest of the group--and I was coming to
you with loads of conditions and maybes. Loving someone isn't about
taking, it's about giving. It's about putting the other person's needs
above your own.
"And since I love you, I can't do anything less than that, can I?"
He didn't need to ask if it was the truth--he could see it clear as day
on her face, in her eyes, in her voice. Temporarily, he lost all his
remaining wits and just gazed at her in amazement. Then he cradled her
face in his hands and kissed her, gently at first, but then with
increasing ardour as she responded in kind.
Eventually she needed to pause for air, and as she pulled away, Spike
stated with a dazed grin on his face, "You love me."
"Uh huh," she answered, smiling.
"Have I told you lately that I'm madly in love with you?"
"Yes, if you count right now," she teased.
"And did I mention that I'm the luckiest bloke ever to exist, for
having such a beautiful, amazing, intelligent, and fascinating woman in
love with an undeserving someone like me?" He asked as he brushed away
a stray hair from her face.
"Who's this woman you're talking about? 'Cause she sounds like serious
competition," Buffy joked, even though Spike could tell the remark had
touched her deeply.
Instead of replying, he leaned down and gave her a slow kiss, then
murmured, "Does that answer your question?"
"Mm-hmm. I think so--ahh!" Buffy winced in pain and grabbed her head.
Spike pulled back to give her some space, but he didn't let go of her.
"You all right, love? What's wrong?"
"Just a headache that's been coming and going. I haven't been able to--
ungh, stop it." She leaned into him and he braced her, then lead her
over to his only chair.
"Rest for a bit, here," he said as she slumped into the chair, eyes
closed from the pain. "Can I get you something?"
"No, I already took pills before. It's stronger this time, guess it's
not working..." she trailed off in agony as she leaned over, head in
hands with tears streaming down her face. "God, it hurts."
He tensed in frustration, seeing the woman he loved in pain, and unable
to do a thing about it. All he could do was stay by her side, and wait
fearfully for things to get better, or worse.
~**~**~
Chapter Eight
~**~**~
The sunset faded into twilight as Buffy watched out the front window,
trying to reassimilate all her memories into a cohesive whole, despite
the headache that continued to nag her. She could recall everything
from the past few days, and her first impressions with the people she'd
known for five years. The differences stood out as a stark contrast,
ones she couldn't afford to ignore.
Xander, who she could fondly remember now, had seemed distant and
abrasive as she got to know him a second time. He was her friend, no
doubt, but the camaraderie of old had faded, and it amazed her that she
hadn't seen it until now. His life was now about his construction job
and his upcoming wedding to Anya. Once that happened, they would move
in together, eventually buy a house, have children, and grow farther
and farther apart from their high school friends.
Her best friend Willow had been there for her, protecting her as
always, but a lot of what Tara said was true. Her view of Willow was
rooted in their longtime friendship, and it had blinded her to the
dangerous pattern of behavior Willow was exhibiting. She hoped it
wasn't too late to stop her friend from delving any deeper, possibly
into arcane areas that she shouldn't be in. The memory of what the
Voice had said about magic needing a price to be paid sent shivers up
her spine, not wanting to contemplate what this could mean for Willow.
Her sister Dawn...it was hard to fathom that their relationship would
never be the same again, not in the way it used to be. Instead of being
the bossy older sis, she'd had the chance to connect with Dawn as a
friend and confidante. Now, she didn't have the doctored memories the
monks had given her, so her sister became an abrupt entry into her
life. Nearly everything she shared with Dawn as a sister was gone, but
maybe it was possible to salvage something and make a new start.
With Giles, Anya, and Tara, the changes of opinion had been small, but
noticeable. Her Watcher was not the dutiful father figure she'd
originally ascribed to him; instead, she now saw him as an older man
who'd been burdened with a task most would have balked at taking. His
job had been to train her as a Slayer, then keep watch and advise her
until she died and the next Slayer was called. Now she could see that
asking him to be the parental figure for Dawn had been a mistake, one
that asked too much from him.
Anya was still Anya, no surprise there, but there had been positive
change, of a sort. As for Tara, it surprised her that she'd grown so
attached to the woman, when before she merely considered her the girl
that Willow was in love with. Now she could see why, and it left her
genuinely happy for her best friend.
Lastly, there was Angel to consider. Looking back on her comments to
him when he'd arrived, she felt horrible over what she'd said. In
retrospect, however, it was true--she and Angel were over. It might
have been a cruel way to make the point, but she didn't have an
overwhelming need to see him again. He'd have to be told about her
memory coming back, but other than that, she was content in how things
stood. For the first time, she felt free from the shadow of their old
relationship.
The sun had completely set now, leaving only a glimmer of palest violet
clinging to the horizon. Her friends continued to chatter, the earlier
jubilance restored and continuing on without her, overjoyed with her
complete return. As she stared out the window, she wasn't so sure about
her own happiness anymore. Had it been better the other way?
Maybe that's what the Powers had wanted all along...a way to relieve
her burden by wiping away the unpleasant memories, starting over new,
untainted. Or maybe they knew her memories would be restored at some
point, and they were trying to show her a lesson about her own
perspective on her friends and family. Either way, she figured that
she'd been manipulated into the agreement, but she couldn't say she was
ungrateful. She had a new chance at life, and she had every intention
of seizing this precious opportunity for all it was worth.
****
As soon as the darkness took over, Spike was out the crypt door and off
to Buffy's house, ready to either escort her wherever she needed, or to
stay awhile and enjoy her and Dawn's presence as they watched something
on TV.
The lights in the house were on, which meant they were still home.
Someone was at the window, as well...it looked like it was Buffy, and
he was proved right when she finally caught sight of him, then turned
away into the light.
He turned the corner into her yard with an unrepressed grin, but his
mood dampened slightly when he realized it wasn't just Buffy and Dawn
in the house. Giles' and Harris' car were in the driveway, and he could
hear their voices coming from inside. Well, it spoiled his plans a
little bit, but they weren't unsalvageable.
He jumped up the steps and knocked on the door twice. It opened almost
immediately onto Buffy, who appeared to be nervous for some reason...
...And then he saw it. True recognition was in her eyes, the way she
stood, how her hands and arms tightened in his presence. Somehow, some
way, she remembered everything--and that included the kiss they'd
shared in his crypt only a couple days ago.
He took a step back, cut to the quick. He knew it would happen
eventually, but it was too soon...now the closeness they'd shared was
gone, erased irrevocably by the knowledge that shone in her eyes. This
Buffy knew he was a monster, and not a man.
"Spike..." Buffy said, her voice sounding uncertain.
"No, it's--I have to, I ought to go. You should be with your friends,
now that you can..." He choked up, then gave her a watery, apologetic
smile. "I'm glad your memories are back, Buffy."
He turned and walked away before he said something else, terrified of
what might come out of his mouth if he stayed. He didn't dare look
back, certain that Dawn was the only one who would miss him.
****
Buffy watched as he turned and left, unable to move or say anything in
response. Her mind was poring over everything that had churned up when
she'd spotted him from the window.
Of them all, Spike had been the biggest change in opinion for her.
She'd been putting it off, not wanting to deal with the thoughts she'd
had in her amnesiac state--never mind the actions--but it was
inevitable.
She shut the door and leaned her forehead against the jamb, ignoring
the odd looks her friends must be giving her. This was all so screwed
up. She wanted to catch up to him, but she didn't know what she would
say. Who could she talk to about this? Willow would freak if she knew
about her kiss with Spike, but she was her best friend, so if not her,
then who...?
Buffy felt a hand on her shoulder and looked over to see Dawn watching
her, concern etched clearly on her face. She smiled back, knowing it
was a weak attempt. It was hard to look at her sister, aware of the
loss of those memories. She could still feel that fierce protectiveness
at work, but she knew now that if she hoped to have a future
relationship with Dawn, she had to be more than the bossy older sister.
It was time to renew the friendship they had begun.
"Dawn, could we go upstairs?" She pleaded. Dawn gave her a confused
look, then shrugged, which for her was the equivalent of being in
agreement.
They settled into Buffy's room, ignoring the crowd of people still
remaining in their living room, bewildered at the secrecy. Dawn crossed
her arms as she sat down on the bed.
"Okay, spill."
And spill Buffy did, letting the anxieties and the confusion out in a
torrent of words. Her feelings were torn two different, seemingly
irreconcilable ways. The situation with the chip muddied the waters
even more, and his own behavior made matters worse.
"First he was evil, then he was snarky but harmless, and now he's nice
and almost sweet in a very un-Spike-like way. He didn't even lie to me
when I couldn't remember what he was like. What makes this even tougher
is that when I only saw him as he is now, without the memories, I
started to...like him. In a definite boy-girl way."
Dawn smirked in satisfaction. "Yeah, I could see that going on. What
else?"
"Well, I didn't tell anyone about this, but when I went to see him
after he was tortured, I kind of kissed him." When Buffy saw Dawn's
eyes bug out, she added, "Nothing smooshy, it was just something to
thank him. However, while he told me about this, I wanted to know what
it was like since I couldn't remember...so I kissed him. Except this
time it was more than gratitude."
Her sister's eyes bugged out at this scrap of news. "Oh, wow. But, when
did this happen? I don't remember you guys being alone for that long."
"I snuck out of the house to talk to him and make him tell me
everything about his past, and he did. Even stuff I'd never heard
before. He didn't try anything, either. But now, there's this ickiness
where I realize I wasn't seeing all the changes he'd been through. I
was letting the past dictate my opinion of him, and I know how I felt
about him while not being able to remember...well. It's all a mess, a
big, confusing mess."
"Buffy, it's not so confusing," Dawn replied, shaking her head.
"It's not?"
"C'mon. Are you running for the Miss Clueless award, or what? You like
him, and you know you like him. Are you still hung up about him being a
vampire, even though he's shown that he's not the same?"
"Well, that's the thing. I don't know anymore. One part of me is
screaming at me to run after him, but the other part says that path
will only lead to more pain and suffering."
"Buffy, *life* is pain and suffering. If there's one thing I've learned
in the past few months, it's that you have to take what joy you can get
when it's there. If you don't, you end up wasting it. I regretted so
much when you were gone, Buffy. I wished I'd done so many things
differently. I don't want to see that happen with you, especially if it
means sacrificing happiness. You wanted us to live, for you. Now I want
you to do the same for yourself. Please, give it a try."
Buffy considered Dawn's plea and seriously thought it over. It wasn't
easy to let go of the dreams she'd had since before high school, ones
where she had a normal life and never worried about anything more
serious than car payments or bills. She always believed those dreams
were dead, but they'd never left, not completely. It was time to truly
move on, past the ruins of her early Slayer years and her relationships
with Angel and Riley, past the hurt and pain she'd held in for so long.
"Maybe I'm afraid that this time, it *would* work out. What an irony
that would be, huh?" Buffy mused, and started to stroke Dawn's hair.
"When did my little sister become so wise?"
"Hey, it happens," she grinned, then added, "Now, are you going to sit
there, or are you going to find Spike and get this all straightened
out?"
"Right. Time to end this, once and for all." Buffy winced and held the
side of her head. "Well, just as soon as I take some more painkillers."
****
He'd thought about going to the Bronze first, then decided against it
in case Buffy and her friends went there to celebrate. Instead, he
ended up at his crypt, not so long after he'd left it.
What a difference a few minutes made. He'd been higher than a cloud
when he'd left, but coming back, it felt like no drainage ditch or
tunnel was low enough for his mood. He couldn't bring himself to drown
his sorrows, and he wasn't in the mood for violence. So he flipped on
the TV and sat down to watch whatever he could manage to get with a
halfway decent reception.
It didn't help. Frustrated, he turned it off and sat back down in his
chair, trying to will the pain away. He shouldn't have hoped, shouldn't
have wanted more than what he'd gotten. She remembered him now, and he
was grateful for it...the Buffy he loved was completely back, and while
he had been nice to have her close, even friendly, he knew it would be
temporary. He could only hope that she wouldn't hurt him for the nice
little snog they'd had in the crypt.
The sound of knocking intruded on his thoughts, but before he could say
something nasty, he realized that someone had *knocked* on his door
before entering. Who did that, nowadays? Willow, or Dawn...?
"Come in," he called out in minor incredulity at the politeness, which
grew into major disbelief as he saw the culprit. He stood up from the
chair in amazement.
"Buffy, what--?"
"I need to talk to you, before someone finds me and tries to talk me
out of this," she began nervously, even worse than she'd been at the
house. What on earth did she have to be nervous about?
"Pet, I understand what's happened. I knew it would come back
eventually, and I should have known better than to--what I mean is, I
shouldn't have let you--"
"No, I know what happened. I was there." She smiled tentatively, then
sighed and walked a little further into the crypt. "I kissed you.
Twice, if you count the one by the window, and I do."
He watched her in bafflement as she wandered over, stopping when she
was close enough to reach out and touch him. "Spike, I'm not entirely
sure of everything just yet. I don't even know if--if I can keep the
house, or what to do about school. I wanted to take poetry in the fall,
but I can't afford it, not anymore..."
"You like poetry?" He interrupted, sure that he must have misheard her.
Her eyes lit up at the question. "Oh, definitely. I was taking it last
year, but I couldn't finish the class because of the bitch goddess's
sucky timing. We were just going through the 19th century, with the
English poets first, I think."
Their eyes met, and he could see that she was remembering what he'd
told her about his past, his *true* past. "Spike, why didn't you tell
me the truth? About you as a human?"
"I didn't think it would be good for the Big Bad image. Spike's not as
impressive when everyone knows he's a sappy poet, is he?" He shook his
head sadly, "If you knew me, saw who William really was...you would've
laughed."
"I didn't laugh when you told me."
"That was different; you didn't remember me, then."
"I remember you now...do you see me laughing?"
It started to sink in that something was definitely occurring,
something that might even be in his favor. "No, I don't."
Why she wasn't laughing at him soon became apparent, because she was
leaning in and kissing him lightly, the gesture taking him completely
by surprise. She broke it off soon after, and he was left standing
there, looking at her as if someone had taken possession of her body.
"W-what was that for?"
She was smiling, as if she took delight in seeing him off-balance.
Maybe she did. "To thank you for the way you behaved when I couldn't
remember you. You didn't take advantage of me, and you could have."
"No, I couldn't. Not when you weren't the Buffy I knew." Her eyes
searched his for an explanation, so he tried to clarify. "Yeah, it was
you after all, and I loved seeing you so happy and carefree. But in the
end, what I want can only come from a Buffy who knows what I am. I
couldn't take it from you, not when it wasn't yours to give."
This time, the kiss wasn't so unexpected, but the passion behind it
truly threw him for a loop. He pulled her in, his hands roaming along
her back as she leaned in, her arms moving from his shoulders to his
neck, tugging him down closer, deeper.
After a long time, she finally pulled free, a thoroughly satisfied look
on her face. Before he could say anything, she said breathlessly,
"That's so you know it's me."
Spike stared back at her, amazed. As the grin crept across his face, he
closed his eyes and began to recite, "O, that you were yourself! but,
love, you are/ No longer yours than you yourself here live:/ Against
this coming end you should prepare./ And your sweet semblance to some
other give./ So should that beauty which you hold in lease/ Find no
determination; then you were/ Yourself again after yourself's
decease..."
He opened his eyes to find her staring at him in awe. Somewhat taken
aback, he replied a bit sheepishly, "It's from one of Shakespeare's
sonnets; number thirteen, I believe."
"And you just...knew that off the top of your head?"
"Well, I'd read it beforehand, a few days ago. It reminded me of you."
"That was--wow."
"Not exactly love poetry, I'll grant you, but you'll have to give me
time for that. It won't be as good, but it won't be another man's
words, at least."
Had he just promised to write her mediocre love poetry? He half-
expected to see a glare of reproof coming from her, but instead she
merely grinned as if it was the most wonderful thing she'd ever heard.
Spike was entirely confused in a wonderful, giddy way, but he wasn't
sure if Buffy herself realized what had happened between them. Somehow,
she was holding on to him, loving him if not in love with him, smiling
and thrilled beyond anything he'd ever seen from her.
"Buffy, not that I'm complaining here, but what's happened? You don't
smell of alcohol, and your eyes aren't glassy." He peered into her eyes
as if looking for divination into her mood. "You're not under some sort
of spell, are you?"
Hurt crossed her face for a split second, before her demeanor changed
and she began to chuckle, a deep laugh that made him join in with her.
After catching her breath, she replied, "No, no spell here, not this
time. This is all me, one hundred percent Buffy, standing in front of
you. She's kinda had an epiphany, you might say."
"Really? Do tell," he urged.
"Well, when I came here, I was pretty much planning to have a talk with
you, hash things out, make a tentative step forward. But when you said
you couldn't take from me, what I hadn't given to you...I realized that
it was time for me to give back to you. Here you've been, giving of
yourself to Dawn and me, and the rest of the group--and I was coming to
you with loads of conditions and maybes. Loving someone isn't about
taking, it's about giving. It's about putting the other person's needs
above your own.
"And since I love you, I can't do anything less than that, can I?"
He didn't need to ask if it was the truth--he could see it clear as day
on her face, in her eyes, in her voice. Temporarily, he lost all his
remaining wits and just gazed at her in amazement. Then he cradled her
face in his hands and kissed her, gently at first, but then with
increasing ardour as she responded in kind.
Eventually she needed to pause for air, and as she pulled away, Spike
stated with a dazed grin on his face, "You love me."
"Uh huh," she answered, smiling.
"Have I told you lately that I'm madly in love with you?"
"Yes, if you count right now," she teased.
"And did I mention that I'm the luckiest bloke ever to exist, for
having such a beautiful, amazing, intelligent, and fascinating woman in
love with an undeserving someone like me?" He asked as he brushed away
a stray hair from her face.
"Who's this woman you're talking about? 'Cause she sounds like serious
competition," Buffy joked, even though Spike could tell the remark had
touched her deeply.
Instead of replying, he leaned down and gave her a slow kiss, then
murmured, "Does that answer your question?"
"Mm-hmm. I think so--ahh!" Buffy winced in pain and grabbed her head.
Spike pulled back to give her some space, but he didn't let go of her.
"You all right, love? What's wrong?"
"Just a headache that's been coming and going. I haven't been able to--
ungh, stop it." She leaned into him and he braced her, then lead her
over to his only chair.
"Rest for a bit, here," he said as she slumped into the chair, eyes
closed from the pain. "Can I get you something?"
"No, I already took pills before. It's stronger this time, guess it's
not working..." she trailed off in agony as she leaned over, head in
hands with tears streaming down her face. "God, it hurts."
He tensed in frustration, seeing the woman he loved in pain, and unable
to do a thing about it. All he could do was stay by her side, and wait
fearfully for things to get better, or worse.