If Not Wisely
Chapter 22: The Advice-part 1
Spoilers: Begins immediately post-Wrecked, becomes AU after that.
Rating: R for swearing and some sexual situations.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Feedback: Would be highly appreciated. This is my first attempt at fanfic, and I would like to know how I am doing. Constructive criticism is welcome.
Distribution: So far, just here. If anyone wants it, just let me know.
Summary: Buffy continues to struggle with her feelings for Spike, and the whole gang tries to help Willow with her abuse of magic.
A/N: Sorry for the long delay between chapters. Real life sometimes gets in the way. I know that some people are anxiously awaiting movie night at the Summers' house, but we have a little ground to cover first. This was originally supposed to be taken care of in one chapter, but it started running away with itself, and I had to break it up into two. Then next part should be up in a couple of days, and the we get to the movie goodness. Enjoy the chapter, and let me know what you think. Thanks!
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A car honked outside, and Buffy ran to the window. She pulled the curtain back and waved at the driver. Turning to grab her jacket, she called to her sister. "Dawn! Xander's here, and I'm leaving to go shopping. Be back in a little bit!"
She heard a shriek from upstairs, followed by the sound of pounding feet. Seconds later, Dawn's head appeared at the top of the stairs.
"Buffy, wait! Can I go to the mall with Janice?"
Buffy frowned. "I don't know, Dawn. You know Janice isn't exactly my favorite person. She has a tendency to get you into trouble."
Dawn stamped her foot and pouted. "Come on! We're only going to the mall! We won't get in any trouble! Please?"
The car honked again, and Buffy sighed. She didn't have time for this. "Fine! Go. Just be home before it gets dark."
"Yes!" squealed Dawn. "Thank you!" She turned and ran back to her room at top speed.
Buffy shrugged into her jacket and reached for the door. "And don't get in any trouble!" she called over her shoulder. "If I have to rescue you tonight, I'll kill you myself!"
There was no response from Dawn—aside from muffled squealing and giggling—so Buffy headed out the door. She bounded down the steps toward Xander's car with an enthusiasm that she hadn't felt since—well, since before her mother had died. It was a beautiful, sunshiny California day, and the weather matched her mood. She was on the verge of an exciting new job, a career even, and was just beginning a new relationship. Her life might not be all sunshine and roses, but things were looking up, and she was in a good mood for a change.
Buffy plopped into the passenger seat and smiled at her friend. "So, Xander, tell me again why you decided to go with the purple car?"
"Anya doesn't have soul."
"Hey, just because she likes purple cars, that doesn't make her a soulless beast!"
"No." Xander was gripping the steering wheel with both hands and staring straight ahead. His voice was flat and emotionless. "Anya. Doesn't have. A soul."
Buffy's smile faded abruptly. "Oh, so she told you, huh?"
Xander finally turned to look at her, eyes wide with shock. "You knew?" He was practically screaming. "You knew, and you didn't tell me?"
"Hey, she just told me yesterday! Besides, I didn't think it was my place to say anything."
"Why? Huh? Just tell me why!" He dropped his head heavily to the steering wheel, and the horn blared loudly.
"Why, what?" He made no move to respond, and the horn continued to sound. "Xander?" Buffy placed a hand on his shoulder. "Xand, stop it." She tried to gently lift his head from the steering wheel, but he would not cooperate. "Hey, quit it! Don't make me use Slayer strength."
Xander groaned and lifted his head to look at her. Mercifully, the horn stopped. "Why, Buff? Why do things like this always happen to me?"
"I'd love to answer your question, but I'm gonna need a 'what.' Why does what always happen to you?"
He sighed heavily. "Never mind." He shifted the car into drive. "Let's get out of here. Grocery goodness awaits!" He pulled out from the curb and took off down the street with a little more speed than necessary.
Buffy reached for her seatbelt, snapping it home in a hurry. Slayer healing had its benefits, but it could hardly counteract being thrown through a windshield. Feeling much more secure, she turned to her friend. "Xander, talk to me. What's going on? Is this about Anya?"
"Yes! No! You know what?" He added a little more speed. "it's not even about Anya. It's about me! There's obviously something wrong with me!" He pressed the gas pedal harder, took a corner with a touch too much speed.
"Xander!" Buffy was thrown against the passenger-side door by the centrifugal force. She reached up to grab the handle above the door. "Cut it out! I know you're upset, but today is not a good day to die, and I don't think that the third time is going to be the charm for me!"
That did it. Xander eased his foot off the gas pedal, and the car slowed to an acceptable speed. He loosened his white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel. "I'm sorry, Buff. It's just…God!" He pounded the steering wheel for emphasis. "Why does this kind of stuff always happen to me? What's wrong with me? I am just a demon magnet!"
"There's nothing wrong with you. Nothing! You are a great guy! Anyone who knows you knows that. You are not a demon magnet."
"Whatever." Xander slowed to a stop at a red light and looked at Buffy again. "Listen, I'm not looking to be cheered up here, so you don't have to tell me what a great guy I am. I just want to know the truth. What is wrong with me?"
The light turned green, and he pulled away, but not before Buffy noticed the slightest tremble in his lower lip. Her heart went out to her friend. She knew exactly what he was feeling, had felt that way plenty of times herself. Why, it had been only a few short days before when she'd mentally berated herself as some sort of vampire fetishist, unable to have a normal relationship with a normal guy. Still, what was she supposed to say? "I feel your pain, man. I'm a vampire groupie, myself." No, she wasn't ready to tell Xander about her relationship with Spike, and Xander definitely wasn't ready to hear it. Judging by his reaction to Anya's little bombshell—and he was actually in love with Anya—Buffy didn't think that Xander would be jumping for joy when he found out that she and Spike were dating, or something like it.
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Spike had not been able to go to sleep after Buffy had left. He was too excited, too hyper. He honestly couldn't remember a time when he'd been happier, and he'd spent the remainder of the morning sitting in his chair smoking cigarettes and thinking of ways to make Buffy fall in love with him. Despite his happiness, Spike was not a fool, and he knew that he had a tough road ahead of him. Buffy may have admitted that she felt something for him, and she may have agreed to give him a chance, but it was not going to be easy, not by any means. She was too stubborn, too headstrong, to go down without a fight. He knew that Buffy was reticent to open her heart to him, and he could tell that she was terrified by her feelings for him, and his for her. Yes, it was going to be hard work, making her fall in love with him, but it was worth it. He'd finally been given a chance, the only thing he'd ever asked from her, and he was determined to make it work.
At some point, he must have fallen asleep, because he awoke with a start when he heard a knock at the door of his crypt. He jumped quickly to his feet, looking for a weapon. No one ever knocked on his door. Buffy just barged right in, so did Dawn, for that matter. He reached for a stake and heard another knock, louder this time. He didn't think a vampire would actually knock before storming in to kill him, besides it was the middle of the day. He couldn't imagine a demon walking around the cemetery in the broad daylight either. They were called creatures of the night for a reason. Who did that leave? Spike groaned. One of the bloody Scoobies. They couldn't possibly have found out about him and Buffy already, could they? Maybe it was the Whelp, wanting more reassurance that his demon bride wasn't evil, after all. That was all he needed. William the Bloody Relationship Counselor. "Who's there?" he called, voice still rough with sleep.
"S-Spike? It's me, T-Tara." On the other side of the door, Tara felt her face go red. She hated it when she stuttered. She'd be getting so much better lately, but she still stuttered, almost uncontrollably, when she was nervous. Coming to see Spike all by herself, even though it was the middle of the day, made her extremely nervous.
"Tara?" Red's Wiccan lover? What could she possibly be doing there? For a moment, Spike thought maybe he was still asleep and dreaming. "What do you want?"
"C-can I come in? Please?"
Spike went to the door and eased it open a couple of inches, mindful of the sun. Sure enough, there was Tara standing on the other side. Her face was flushed bright red, and she looked nervous. Oh, God. What if something had happened to Buffy? Or to Dawn? "What's wrong? Did something happen?"
"No! No, everything's fine. I just need to t-talk to you." She could see the skepticism on Spike's face. "Please? Just for a minute."
"All right. Come in, then. Watch the sun." He turned and walked quickly back to his chair, trying to stay as far away as possible from the deadly California sunshine.
Tara squeezed through the barely open door and shut it firmly behind her. Unsure of what to do, she stood uncomfortably just inside the door, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She hadn't really had a plan when she decided to go see Spike, and now she was definitely wishing that she had. She felt so foolish, just standing there. She really should say something.
Spike had been rooting around for a cigarette and hadn't noticed that Tara was still standing by the door. When he'd finally found one and managed to light it, he looked over at Tara. "Well? Don't just stand there, come on in. Sorry, I don't have anything to offer you. The Little Bit polished off all my human food. Don't suppose you'd fancy a beer?"
"Oh, no. N-no, thank you." Tara took a few nervous steps forward, but stayed far away from Spike.
He chuckled to himself. She looked like a lamb going to the slaughter. It should have made him feel good
that someone was actually still afraid of him, but it didn't. For some unknown reason, he wanted these people to like him. If not like him, then at least accept him. "Come on, now. I'm not gonna bite you. Bloody Initiative wankers made sure of that. Tell me, what's so important that it made you forget that vampires sleep during the day?"
"Oh! I'm sorry! Of course you were sleeping! Do you w-want me to come back later?"
Spike sighed, ran his fingers through his hair. "Bloody Hell, woman! No, I don't want you to come back later! I'm awake now, so you might as well tell me what it is that made you brave the den of the beast."
Tara flinched, and she could feel her bottom lip begin to tremble. She hated being yelled at; hated even more to have people mad at her. Quickly, she turned and headed for the door. "I'm s-sorry. I should just go. I d-didn't mean to bother you."
"Tara!" Why did he feel guilty all of a sudden? Vampires weren't even supposed to be capable of feeling guilt. "Don't go, ducks. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. Come sit down and tell me what's wrong."
Tara paused, hand on the doorknob. She really did need to talk to Spike, but he didn't seem to be in the best mood. Of course, she had just woken him up. She could be a bear first thing in the morning, herself. Slowly, she turned to face him. "Are you sure it's okay?"
Spike sighed again, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from snapping at her once again. "Yes, I'm sure."
"Okay." Tara took a deep, calming breath before walking over to the battered sofa. She sat, somewhat tensely, on the edge, slightly angled so that she could face him. Spike's demeanor had softened considerably, and her initial nervousness was slowly fading away. She gathered her courage and looked him in the eye. "I'm not, you know."
"You're not what?"
"Afraid of you. I'm not afraid of you, Spike."
He gave a short, bitter laugh. "Of course you're not. Who'd be afraid of a vampire that can't even bite? Hell, I couldn't even yank one hair from your pretty little head without suffering excruciating pain." He took a hard drag from his cigarette and blew the smoke out angrily. "I just woke up, you know, and I'm feeling a mite peckish. Time was, I'd eat you for breakfast—and smile doin' it. Not now, though. Soddin' piece of plastic put a right stop to that. Pretty sorry excuse for a master vamp, ain't I?" Spike couldn't help throwing a little impromptu pity party for himself. He knew he was pathetic—hell, he didn't even want the silly bint to be afraid of him—but her just saying it flat out like that, really bothered him.
"It's not the chip, Spike. If the chip stopped working right this instant, I still wouldn't be afraid of you. I trust you, and it's not just because I know that you can't hurt me. It's because I know you wouldn't hurt me. I know you, Spike; I see you."
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Realizing that she wouldn't be able to commiserate with Xander over their lousy track records when it came to love, Buffy decided to try and snap him out of it. "Look, Xander, this has nothing to do with you. It's about Anya."
"Maybe it is about Anya, but she's just the latest in a long line of freaks. Think about it, Buff. I've only been involved with a pitiful few women, and every last one of them was a freak. I mean, first we have Praying Mantis Lady. Oh, she was more than happy to divest me of my pesky virginity. Too bad she was planning on eating me afterwards! Then there was Inca Mummy Girl. Oh, she was a prize. Hot as hell, and she loved to suck face. Too bad she wanted to suck the life right outta me, literally! Yeah, I picked a winner there. Then what? Oh, yes, Cordelia. She was probably more of demon than the rest of them put together! We had a relationship based on mutual loathing and a little closet-groping. And now, now I hear that she's getting some wicked-painful visions that make Spike's chip look like a pleasure cruise. How's that for normal? Which, of course, brings us to Anya. Former vengeance demon with over a thousand years of pain and torture under her belt. Do I know how to pick 'em, or do I know how to pick 'em?"
"Come on, Xander! Cordelia wasn't that bad!" Buffy shot him a smile, but Xander was having none of it. "As far as Anya's concerned, I think former is the key word. She's human now, no more demon."
"Yeah, but she still doesn't have a soul!"
"Hey, she told me that she wasn't sure if she had one or not, not that she didn't. Plus, you're forgetting about Willow! She was in love with you for years—you guys even made with the smoochies a couple of times—and there's nothing wrong with her."
Xander snorted. "Yeah, except for the fact that she's a power-trippin' witch who's large with the dark arts! And, hello? Gay now!"
Buffy smiled at that, then frowned, considering. "You know, I'm not really sure if you could call her gay. I'm thinking that she might be bi-sexual. I mean, there was the whole thing with you, and she and Oz were together for a long time. They were even sleeping together. So, it's not like she's not attracted to men. At least, she has been in the past. Although, I guess she could've just been in denial. Maybe she was just covering up her true feelings. What do you think?"
"Buffy! Focus! We are not debating Willow's sexual orientation here! We're talking about me! More specifically, my inability to have a normal relationship with a normal woman."
Xander's last statement hit a little too close to home for Buffy. She slumped a little lower in her seat. "Hey, you're asking the wrong person, Xan. It's not like I've ever had a normal relationship, either. Not since I got called, at least."
"Buffy…" Xander hadn't meant to get Buffy depressed. One depressed person per shopping trip was pretty much the quota.
"No, seriously, think about it. First there's Angel—extremely broody vamp with a soul who goes all evil-twin on me. Scott, who couldn't handle dating such a freak. Angel again. He almost drains me dry, then leaves town 'for my own good.' Then what? Parker, who uses me and tosses me away like so much Kleenex. Can't even begin to tell ya what a pleasant experience that was. Finally, we have Riley. Seems to be all Joe Normal, until I find out he's all Secret-Identity Guy. Not to mention the vampire sucks jobs he was getting on the side. Don't even get me started on Spike."
Xander reached out and patted her knee. "I guess you've had it pretty bad too, huh? Spike doesn't count, though. It's not like you guys ever dated or anything. He just has some sort of sick, twisted obsession with Slayers, that's all. Still, I'd have to say that list you rattled off was pretty impressive."
Buffy felt her face grow hot and avoided looking at him. She couldn't believe that she'd just let that slip about Spike. Thank God, Xander hadn't seemed to notice. This was definitely not the time to break the news that she and Spike were kind of a couple. "Yeah, I think I might have you beat in the 'Do I Know How to Pick 'Em' department. But, look, it's not going to do us any good to feel sorry for ourselves. We live on a Hellmouth. Things are bound to be wacky, especially love, which is wacky anyway."
"Yeah, well, that doesn't make me feel any better about my current situation."
"What situation? Xander, there is no situation! You're in love with Anya. She's in love with you. You guys are getting married! What could possibly be so bad about that?"
"Yeah, but—"
"No buts! Do you have any idea how lucky you are? You've found the person that you want to spend the rest of your life with! You have a chance to be happy! Don't throw that away, especially not on something as stupid as this."
Xander sighed as he pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store. He could tell that Buffy was getting frustrated with him, and maybe he was being stupid, but he really didn't care. He was going through a major crisis, and his so-called best friend didn't even seem to care. "You don't understand, Buffy! Yes, I thought Anya was 'the one,' and, yes, we were happy together. But if she doesn't even have a soul, then that negates everything."
Buffy groaned and tried to refrain from pulling out her hair. "How can you say that it negates everything? You love her, don't you?"
He pulled into an empty space, put the car in park and turned of the ignition before answering. "Yes, I love her. I love her so much it scares me sometimes. Buffy, I don't know what I'd do without her."
She gave him a smile, a little touched by his answer. "Well, it's a good thing you'll never have to find out! Xander, Anya loves you. Anyone could tell just by looking at her. You should hear the way she talks about you, or the way she beams at her engagement ring. She loves you, and you love her. That's all that matters. Stop letting little things get in the way." She opened the car door and got out, heading for the store entrance.
Xander quickly scrambled after her. "Buffy," he was almost pleading with her, "a soul is not a little thing. You, of all people, should know that. Look what happened with Angel."
Buffy abruptly stopped walking and spun around to face him. "You're right, a soul is not a little thing, but maybe it should be."
"What do you mean? How can you say that?" Xander stared at her with a shocked expression on his face.
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"I see you." Tara's last words echoed through his head, bringing with them unwelcome memories. Memories of a man long dead, of a beautiful, snobbish society woman. I do see you, William, that's the problem. You're beneath me. Spike closed his eyes, swallowed down the lump that was growing in his throat. He did not want to be reminded of that time, of the man he used to be. It was just too painful. Everything he'd done, from the moment he'd woken up and felt bloodlust for the first time, had been part of a conscious effort to erase all traces of that man. Sure, the chip may have reduced him to a shadow of his former self, but he would never be reduced to William. He refused to let himself be reduced to that.
"Spike?"
Tara's voice freed him from the memories. He opened his eyes to look at her, and they were cold and hard. His voice, too, seemed harder when he spoke. "What exactly is it that you think you see, Witch?"
She flinched a little at his tone, but steeled herself to continue. She would not let herself be intimidated by him. Tara had wanted to say this to Spike for a long time, and she would not be deterred. "I see a good man."
I know I'm a bad poet, but I'm a good man. The memories continued to assault him. Would he ever truly be free? He'd spent over a hundred and twenty years as the biggest, baddest vampire around, yet he continued to be tortured by a weak, spineless, silly man who had died long ago. Spike fought against his memories, refusing to be drawn into the past. "You don't know what you're talking about," he said, voice as cold and hard as ever.
She gave him a knowing smile. "Oh, I know more than you think, much more. I'm quiet, you know, just like a little mouse. I don't usually say a whole lot, and people sometimes forget I'm even in the room. I have a tendency to blend into the background. It's hard sometime, being a non-entity, but it has its benefits. I pick up on a lot of things that most other people don't. I guess you could say I'm perceptive."
"So, you're a quiet little mouse! What's the bloody point?" Spike's anger was rising. He barely knew this girl, and there she was sitting in front of him, all sweet and smiling, claiming that she saw him. The way she was looking at him made his skin crawl. It was almost as if she could see right through him; almost as if she could see William.
Tara was, indeed, quite perceptive, and she could sense Spike's unease. It should have made her nervous, or even make her want to discontinue this conversation and avoid any further upset. Instead, it made her feel better. If Spike were feeling uncomfortable, then she might actually be on to something. She smiled at him again, and she could tell by his reaction that he didn't like it one bit. "The point, Spike, is that I see what the others don't. Of course, it might have to do with the fact that you never tried to kill me, but it's more than that."
"What do you see?" His voice was softer now, quieter. The Big Bad persona had slipped a little, and his eyes began to show signs of emotion.
"I see the way you are with Dawn, the way you care about her, worry about her. I see the way her eyes light up when you come into the room, and the way you smile just for her. I saw you after you'd withstood hours of torture by a Hell God instead of betraying a little girl. I saw you rush to the top of a tower, heedless of your own safety, ready to fight to the death to protect that same little girl."
"But I didn't!" His eyes were flashing. "I didn't die, and I didn't protect her! I let her down; I failed. I failed, and Buffy…" His voice broke, and he could not continue.
"Hey, none of that." Tara's voice was surprisingly stern, even to herself. She reached out and put a consoling hand on his arm to soften the harshness. "You did not fail. Don't say that; don't even think that. You did the best you could, everyone did. Besides, it doesn't matter if you were successful or not, what matters is that you did it. You put yourself on the line to save Dawn, to save Buffy, to save the whole world. That's what matters."
Spike snorted. "Fat lot of good it did me."
"You're right. It didn't do you much good, did it? But is that why you did it? Were you expecting some big payoff?"
"No." The word was mumbled almost inaudibly.
"No, you didn't. You did it because you love Dawn, and you love Buffy. You even love this horrible, messed-up world we all live in." That got a small smile from him. "You know what, though? I think there's even more to it than that. I think you did it because it was the right thing to do."
"You'd like to think that, wouldn't you? Make yourself feel a little better about consorting with the evil undead. I've got news for ya, Witch. I'm a vampire! And vampires could give fuck-all about doing the right thing!" The anger was back, as Spike pulled the Big Bad persona a little more tightly around him.
"Maybe not most vampires. But you're not like most vampires."
Spike leapt to his feet, towering menacingly over her. "Bollocks! I am exactly like most vampires!"
"Oh yeah?" asked Tara innocently, a small smile on her face.
"Yeah!"
"You can keep telling yourself that, Spike. Maybe, one of these days, you'll even believe it. You can hide behind the hair and the coat, the bluster and the swagger, all you want. Go ahead and play the big, bad vamp, for all I care. You're not fooling me, though. You are nothing like those…things that Buffy kills every night. You're different, special."
"Bloody Hell!" He couldn't even bring himself to stay angry at this sweet, smiling girl. He sat back down with a defeated sigh and reached for another cigarette. When he had it lit, he raised his head to look at her. "I'm not special."
"Yes, you are." The smile still played around the corners of her mouth. "I've known you were special since that time you punched me. You know, in the Magic Box?"
He blew out a puff of smoke with a small laugh. "Are you daft? I damn near broke your sodding nose!"
"Yeah, it did hurt like hell, but you were doing me a favor. You proved that I wasn't a demon. You have no idea how scared I was then. I really believed that line of crap my family'd been feeding me for years. You really helped me out, Spike, and I never even said thank you."
"No need to lose any sleep over it. I'm used to it."
The smile disappeared, and Tara looked saddened. "Yeah," she said softly, "I guess you probably are. Spike, I'm sorry about that. I'm sorry that we never thanked you as much as we should have. You've done so much good, and no one ever seems to notice. You patrolled with us almost every night over the summer, and you saved all of our lives more times than we could count. You looked after Dawn, kept her spirits up. God, you played gin rummy with her, and let her paint your nails, and you listened to those horrible boy bands that she likes. You made her smile more than any of the rest of us could, even though you were probably dying inside."
"I am dead." The words were said without a trace of humor.
"Maybe, technically, you are, but you seem so full of life to me. You're so passionate about everything you do. I really envy you sometimes, the way you just grab life by the tail. You do what you want and never let anything get in the way. I wish I could be more like that. Sometimes I'm too timid for my own good. I feel like I miss out on a lot of things."
He reached over and ground out the cigarette forcefully. "You really are daft if you envy me! No one in their right mind would wish this upon themselves. You must be a bleedin' idiot if you think I'm better off!"
"No, n-no I didn't' mean that! I was just…I mean, sometimes…Oh, never mind." She looked down at her hands, feeling exactly like the bleeding idiot that Spike had called her.
Spike pushed himself to his feet and moved toward the refrigerator. "Look, it's not like I didn't enjoy that little pep talk—it's a lot better than the usual round of Kick the Spike that I'm used to—but is that the reason why you came here today? To bolster my self-esteem?" He opened the door and reached in for a beer. "Sure you don't want one of these? They're imported."
Tara surprised him, and herself, by saying, "Sure, might as well."
He walked back over to the couch holding two beers. He handed one to Tara and sat down with the other. "So, was that it, then? Just came to tell me what a special vamp I am?"
"No." Tara took a sip of the beer, wincing at the taste. She'd always been more of a wine person. Actually, I came to talk to you about Willow."