Repercussions, Part 3





Spike stood with his arms folded across his chest, leaning against the kitchen counter. Unconsciously, Xander mirrored his pose on the other side of the room.

"What?" asked Xander.

"We need to settle this," Spike answered.

"Settle what? You're lucky all you get is a little hostility from me. If it weren't for Buffy, you'd be dust many times over by now."

Spike pursed his lips and he looked out the window. Finally, he spoke. "Look Harris, I'm not going to apologize to you, because, frankly, you don't deserve it. Anya was a free woman that night we were together. You. Left. Her. Any regrets I have about that situation I will discuss with her and her alone. As for Buffy and I, that also is between us. But I will say this. I understand why you feel the way you do. You have good reason for the way you feel about me, and vice versa. Guess what? Doesn't matter. We don't matter. What matters to me is Willow, and Buffy, and Dawn. They've been through enough and they don't need this crap from us on top of everything else. Can we at least agree on that?"

Xander stared at him for a moment. It physically pained him to agree with Spike, but he couldn't deny what he was saying. Finally, his love for the women in question overcame his hatred for the vampire. "Alright. I agree. You stay out of my way, I'll stay out of yours. But don't expect me to be friendly or anything."

"Perish the thought."

"And don't expect everything to be forgiven now that you're supposedly all souled up. I didn't like Angel much more with the soul than I did without it."

"Now see, that's something else we agree on."

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Spike walked back into the living room where the rest of the group was sitting and talking. To the casual observer, it would look no different than any other Scooby get together. Spike knew better. Buffy laughed just a little too loud, Dawn played with her hair, and Willow's hands fluttered about a tad more than usual. It was strange how he felt closer to Willow now than he did to Buffy, and when Red looked up and raised her eyebrows at him expectantly, he knew exactly what she was asking.

He sat on the arm of the sofa next to her and leaned down, his mouth close to her ear. "All taken care of," he said.

"That's my Will," she said, and her hand went briefly to his cheek. He felt someone staring at him, and when he looked up, Buffy quickly looked away. Xander stood in the doorway, also watching them. Spike decided not to push his luck, and went and sat next to Dawn, who had moved away from the group and sat on the bottom step of the stairs.

"How's things, Nibblet?"

"Fine," she said, twisting a strand of hair around her fingers.

"That so? You don't seem so fine to me." She didn't say anything. "I was wonderin' if you could maybe do me a favor?"

She looked up at him. "Like what?"

"Like, give Willow a bit of a break. I know what happened, and you've got every right to be upset. But, maybe you could cut her some slack."

"Why should I?" she asked, her mouth set in a hard line.

"For me," he said quietly. Her face softened a little. "See, 'cept for Giles, maybe, you and Willow are the only two friends I have. Have ever had, if you wanna know the truth. It'd be nice if we could all maybe be in the same room together. And I know she's crazy about you."

"You guys must've gotten pretty close, all those months living at Giles's."

"Yeah, I guess so. Willow really helped me, bit."

She considered this for a moment. "I'll think about it."

"Thanks, platelet."

He stood up. "Hey, Rupert, sun's down, I'm going to go take care of those things I mentioned earlier. I'll see you two back at the hotel?" He looked from Giles to Willow, and they both nodded. "Buffy?" he asked, "can I talk to you for a minute, outside?"

"Sure," she answered. 'Finally!' is what she thought. Spike tucked his blanket under his arm, held the door open for her, and she ducked under his arm to go out on the front porch. He closed the door behind him, and when he turned around she was practically on top of him. He backed away a step or two.

"Look, I know we probably have a lot to talk about, but I figured you'd want to catch up with Red and Rupert first" he said.

"Uh, yeah, right." Spike has a soul. No biggie. We'll discuss it later.

"And I have a few things I need to take care of tonight." He stepped down on to the first porch step.

"Like what?"

"Well, I need to go by the crypt and see about my stuff. I know Clem's been taking care of it for me. And I need to check on my car, see if it still runs." He walked down a couple of more steps.

"Are you going back to the crypt? To stay, I mean."

He was standing on the sidewalk now. "Just until I find something else. I'm going to start looking for a place tomorrow. An apartment."

"How are you going to manage that?"

"I have a job. That's one of the things I want to talk to you about, actually. Is tomorrow good? To talk?" He took a few more steps away.

"What? Tomorrow? Sure, I'll, I'll be around tomorrow." Her head was spinning. Now, he had a job?

"O.K., I'll stop by tomorrow afternoon, then. Good night, Buffy."

"'Night." She watched him walk away in disbelief.

As he walked down Revello drive, he breathed a literal sigh of relief. This was even harder that he thought it would be. Dealing with Harris had been a breeze compared to Buffy. He knew she must be confused at his behavior, and he should have apologized, although that seemed just painfully inadequate no matter how many times he'd gone over the words in his mind. But, he didn't think himself capable of coherent conversation at this point, and he didn't want to make it worse. Better to deal with concrete issues like cars. And Clem. Good, solid Clem, who'd kept a watch on his things, such as they were, all summer. He thought he'd give him the TV for his trouble; it was a pretty good one. And maybe the fridge. Although, they were stolen. Maybe he should return them? Used, now, so that wouldn't work. Give them to charity? Was Clem considered charity? Bloody soul. He could handle the big guilt the soul dealt out, it was these little things that annoyed him.

Yeah, he could handle the big stuff. Now. If Giles hadn't taken him in that night he'd shown up at his door, he didn't think he would have had the strength or the will to get himself out of the sun. But Giles had taken him in. And Willow had stayed up all night with him, night after night, talking about lost lives and lost loves and lost opportunities. She was there for him. And she let him be there for her, which was almost more important. And he could handle it now.

Well, mostly. Because, he expected to feel guilty about 120 years of death and destruction. And he'd expected to feel bad about what he'd done to Buffy. Hell, he didn't even need the soul for that. Still, he expected the soul to change the way he felt about himself.

He hadn't expected it to affect the way he felt about her.

TBC