Do What You Have to Do
Part VI
The beaming sun and cool breeze made the ten-minute walk to the park quite a comfortable jaunt. Spike studied with a child-like fascination the new and old sites of downtown Sunnydale. Two blocks from the Expresso Pump was a new club--Xanadu's--as well as several new shops. Most of the remaining shops had had moderate facelifts, though they retained their familiar monikers.
"The more things change," he uttered to himself, impressed with the new yet familiar downtown.
"The more they stay the same," Buffy finished for him and smiled when he beamed at her. As he turned his attention back to the streets, Buffy couldn't help but to be in awe of this new Spike that walked beside her. Just like this new town, he was so different, but the core, the glue that held him together, was still the Spike that she had first met outside the Bronze almost seven years ago.
"What's so funny?" Spike asked when Buffy giggled softly at his side.
"Nothing," on his smirk she clarified, "I mean it's just that--can you believe that we've known each other for like seven years now?"
He whistled at that. "And both of us are still alive. Fancy that."
"Tell me about it. Who would've thunk we'd make it this far."
"Well," Spike replied, and he slung his arm casually over Buffy's shoulder, "I knew the whole time that I'd be around now. It was you, Slayer, that I didn't think would be around what with the Big Bad after you."
"Puleasse," she spat and jokingly pushed him away. "Like you ever had a shot at beating me."
The former vampire stopped and stared at the petite blond incredulously. "Are you daft? Because I clearly remember your arse bein' saved by good ole Mummy dearest nearly braining yours truly with an axe to the head." He touched the back of his head for effect. "Bloody thing still 'urts," he muttered and pasted a sullen look on his face.
"Oh my God," Buffy teased, "I can't believe it. The Big Bad's pouting cuz he got beat up by a couple of women."
"Did not!" The vampire replied indignantly and huffed when Buffy arched her eyebrow in victory. "Pushy little bint," he muttered before thrusting his hands in his pockets.
"And proud of it," Buffy beamed and they walked the remainder of the jaunt through downtown in silence.
Spike let Buffy lead the way, always half a step behind her. He told himself that it was because she knew the best place to sit in the park and that it had nothing--absolutely, positively nothing--to do with the pleasant view he received by cocking his head to the side, just like so.
Who am I kidding, he confessed, it's all about the view. The luscious view was, in part, to the tight Capri's that Buffy wore. Capri's that just so happened to be white and, thus allowing him a most intimate peek of the thongs that she was wearing. Though he could only discern the faint outline of said panties it was enough to get his mind churning with an assortment of visions of Buffy sans the pants. Then sans the shirt and--sod it all--naked as a jay bird! It had been two years since he had touched her in the overt sexual way that they used to share and now he wanted nothing more than that.
S'not quite accurate, mate, He conceded. As much as he wanted Buffy in every position known to man (not to say that they hadn't experimented with an assortment of--hell, they had put the Kama Sutra to shame) there was something much more important to him. Something that would dwarf even the longest of their romps in the sack. It was so simple yet so difficult to obtain and as his hand brushed lightly against hers, he couldn't help but feel bitter at the fact that he would never get it.
Is it that hard? He thought, frustrated. Knew her for four years and some Joe Bloke rides from the shadows and steals her heart. S'bloody unfair if you ask me.
Though she hadn't looked toward her companion since their last words, Buffy knew that his eyes were on her. A very specific part of her, to be exact and the slayer couldn't help but feel a bit giddy by his ocular attention to her backside. Of course, the giddiness transformed itself into an all-too-familiar warmth that nestled between her thighs and she couldn't help but be thankful that he couldn't detect her arousal like he used to.
"Thank God for small favors," she said and was surprised that Spike didn't spew out a rejoinder. Curious, she glanced over at him and noticed the telltale signs of 'William in deep thought': the wrinkled eye brows, the slight jut of the lower lip though they were set in a straight line and the midnight flush of his eyes. Yeah, something was on his mind big-time.
"Care to share?" Buffy asked innocently. The remark was enough to nudge Spike out of his reverie though it took him a minute to refocus his attention.
"What was that, luv?" he asked and risked a stealthy glance at the curve of her hip.
"Were you looking at my butt?" Buffy asked, feigning shock. She bit her cheek when she saw the blush creep up on his cheeks as he fumbled for something to say.
"Wha…I…what?" Was all he got out before Buffy's tenuous hold on her laughter broke.
Holding one hand to her stomach, Buffy fumbled her way to the closest bench where she then placed both hands over her aching body part and she doubled over in a cacophony of guffaws.
In the blink of an eye (well, two blinks, actually) Spike had gone from embarrassed to angry to a prideful smirk at the sound of Buffy's laughter. As much as he hated to be the brunt of laughter in any situation, Spike couldn't hold in the warmth that coursed through him as he watched the love of his existence shake with laughter as the sun highlighted her immaculate features. In that moment, as her hair shook loose of the ponytail and her eyes teared in mirth, Spike knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this woman was a goddess.
"Cor, you are beautiful," he said in amazement, unaware of his words until Buffy stopped in mid-laughter.
Buffy stared at Spike wide-eyed, temporarily frozen by his simple declaration. It wasn't the words themselves or the sincerity behind them that tugged at her heart--he had said it often enough and though she never admitted it, it always touched her.
Nor was it because he was human and, thus, had a soul. In his time gone, Buffy had realized that a soul did not mean one was entirely good. It took time for her brain to rationalize that the opposite was true as well. That despite his lack of a soul, Spike had definitely been on the side of good. He was by no means a white hat, but she now understood that there was no such thing as black and white.
Buffy pushed that thought aside, knowing that if she let it, the regret of realizing the truth may have been achieved too late, would consume her and sullen the mood more than the upcoming talk would.
She focused on his words and her feelings as he said them and she pinpointed why they affected her this time more than others. No longer was she bogged down by her sacred duty or the morose attitude of 'why me'. For the first time in years, Buffy Anne Summers was enjoying life and her heart was open to possibilities and emotions that had been impossible during her time with Spike.
But what does that mean, Buffy? She asked herself, baffled at what the answer was. No, she couldn't think about Spike like that. Not now, maybe not ever. But there was a definite maybe-age in there, Buff, a tiny voice whispered. She wanted to bound and gag that voice, then pummel it into submission before shutting it in a crate and dropping it to the bottom of the ocean that was were her tumultuous thoughts. But she stayed her hand for, she knew that recently listening to the voice was most definitely 'of the good'. Hell, if she hadn't listened to it, she may have never seen Spike again.
Okay, she admonished before it could sound again, let's not get all with the partying just yet. There's still a lot we have to do before anything is settled
So, the voice began, hopefully, does that mean…?
"Thank you," she replied bashfully to Spike's comment, effectively drowning out the remainder of what her new inner voice had to say.
Spike looked up in surprised. When he saw the slightly frantic look in Buffy's eyes, he had cursed himself and went to study the ground as his foot kicked idly at some rocks. His first thought had been too much, too fast, though, considering the 'friendly' kiss they had shared earlier, could his comment really be deemed that? Then he had thought that it had brought forth unpleasant memories for her--memories that were obviously no longer a stumbling block for the Slayer despite the severity of them. His hunched shoulders signified the 'whipped dog' mentally he still held--waiting to be kicked and hit into submission until the next time he was needed to vent frustration. He had expected a million things and, despite Buffy's new demeanor and her promises of a 'gentler Buffy', her heartfelt thanks was not on that list.
"You're welcome," he offered shyly and sat down next to her. His hands remained in his pockets as if he didn't know what to do with them.
They sat in an amicable silence for several minutes, appreciating the peaceful day as well as sneaking furtive glances at one another, though the stealth of said glances were quite unsuccessful.
"Bloody hell," Spike huffed after catching her for the third or fourth time, "is one of us gonna get the stones to say something or are we gonna sit hear like a couple of bloody teenagers and admire the view."
"What's wrong with the view?" Buffy demanded petulantly. She then narrowed her gaze at Spike's cerulean orbs and, very deliberately, stated, "I happen to like the view."
To say Spike blushed was akin to noting that the Sun was bright--gross understatement. Buffy smiled when she noticed the dimples that formed from his sheepish grin and she playfully nudged him with her shoulder. He wrenched his eyes from the sidewalk and gave Buffy a look that had her gasping.
His eyes glistened from the Sun's rays, a blue pool of ecstasy, pain, and anger, hurt and, most of all love. It was a countenance similar to the one he adorned when she broke it off with him, though this particular time he did not house the immense pain that radiated from him that night. Buffy quickly busied herself with examining her fingernails, unsure of her voice after the inundation of emotions.
Spike knew he hit a cord when he made eye contact with Buffy. It wasn't anything new, as he had known for quite sometime that she could rarely hold his gaze when he put all of what he felt into it. When he could, it was a fine weapon to use and it had weakened her already token resistance many a time, leading to hours of intense pleasure. Other times, however, it slipped through when it was the last thing he had wanted her to see. He remembered the crushed look she gave him when she called it off and he knew she had seen everything that was Spike in his eyes. If he hadn't been so hurt, the pity that carried in her voice would have been enough for him to give a hurtful retort As it was, he had just stood there, unbelieving that it was happening to him--again.
You're not the only one with abandonment issues, luv, he mused. How many times had he been in love and had his heart torn asunder? Perfect three-for-three, mate. Maybe if I beg pathetically enough, Buffy'll take advantage of a two-fer-one special.
Buffy saw the dejection in Spike's eyes as his shoulders slumped and she couldn't help but wonder what painful thoughts were running rampant in the former Big Bad's mind.
Her smile faded and she frowned at the defeated look Spike cast and Buffy automatically took his hand in hers and she felt him stiffen. Her eyebrows creased in confusion until she followed the direction of his eyes and she recoiled without thinking.
Shit, she thought as she nervously fingered the ring Garrett had slipped on her finger four months ago, wishing that she could put off the inevitable. But it wasn't fair to Garrett or Spike for her to chicken out now--sooner or later the truth was bound to come forth. Now was as good a time as any.
"Spike," she said hesitantly. "There are some…things that happened while you were gone. And I think it's about time I tell you about them."
***
The butterflies in my stomach are torn between holding patterns and strafing runs as I contemplate what to say next. But then again, I should be used to that, shouldn't I? I mean, Buffy and 'words caught in throat' are pretty much synonymous though I am also known for my Willow-like ability to babble; something I so do not wanna do. So I guess I'm stuck between saying too little and talking until he shoves a pipe down my throat to…I did not just think that! Tell me I did not just think that…
"Uh, luv?" He asks, breaking me from my pre-speech haze. He gives me that little smirk of his, though there is nothing mocking in it. Hey, a sincere smirk from Spike--never thought I'd see that. Okay, Buffy concentrate.
"Yeah…huh?" Oh, very smooth.
"So, are we gonna chat this out," he waves his hand between us, flashing another glance at the ring, "or are we gonna sit here in a not uncomfortable silence and admire the rest of the day?"
"Well, I don't see you offering a topic of conversation," I retort and smile smugly at the silk feel of my defenses raising effortlessly. But that's bad--no Buffy defenses. Buffy defenses a no-no; it only leads to bad and hurtful remarks like…
"Last time I checked, pet, I wasn't the one engaged." Point. I want to respond with something sardonic but the kicked-Spike look plus a fresh helping of hurt and bitterness in his voice derails my comeback train.
"Spike," I attempt to start the conversation again.
"What? Think I wouldn't notice? Hell, I noticed the bloody thing when I first saw you. S'not like it's hard to miss, mind you, being roughly the size of sodding Arizona and all. I mean…" I silence him by placing two fingers over his lips, something that seemed like a good idea at the time. Of course, the horse hooves sounding as my heartbeat beg to differ. The feel of his warm lips under my fingertips is quite weird considering I am so used to their cold feel.
"Are you going to let me talk or what?" I hold his gaze and feel like doing a dance when he breaks eye contact first. Point for Buffy--woo hoo!
"Sorry, luv," he has the dignity, no the audacity to look ashamed. Wow, still hard to get used to Spike all apologiz-y and stuff.
"No, Spike; I'm the one that should be apologizing to you." He graces me with the "are you daft" look and I stifle a laugh. Still the same ol' Spike that I've come to know and…well, aren't I getting off topic.
"Okay, why don't we do this. No apologies until I'm done." He responds with that boyish smile of his, and I can't help but return it--without the boyishness, of course.
"When you left, so much changed so quickly. I told you some of it on the way from San Diego, but there was…a lot that I didn't share. I was waiting for the right time and, hey, no time like the present.
"Well, after Willow was whisked away to some Wiccan coven in England, I took stock in a few things. I called it Buffy's gradual Epiphany."
"'Gradual Epiphany', luv?" He doesn't even try to conceal his amusement. "Thought epiphanies were like bolts of lightning to the cerebellum."
"Well, mine aren't, so…" I flick my tongue at him but quickly retract it as I catch him licking his own lips, which, of course, has the same effect on me and--we're in the park. Not that anything would happen if we weren't. God, Buffy, get it together.
"Anyway, you're prolonging the…"
"Inevitable?" There is not trace of humor in his voice and my smile crashes onto the bench. This is going to be so damn hard.
"Spike--I…I'm…" But he holds up his hand.
"No sorries, remember?" I nod resolutely and inhale deeply, relishing in the scent of the coming summer, praying that it will give me the strength to get this all out.
"You're right; no interruptions. Like I was saying, after Willow left, I had to take stock in a few things. The first was that the world is not black and white. Actually, I think I knew that awhile ago, but I just didn't wanna believe it. Ambiguity not a friend of a slayer let me tell you. Okay, stop with the looks, I know already--everything about life is pretty much in the gray, some things just have a darker--or lighter--shade. Am I right?"
"And why didn't you live by said philosophy earlier on in life?" His voice hints at teasing though the seriousness of his eyes clues me in on how to answer.
"Truthfully? Because it…complicates things. Back then, I wasn't much one with the complex issues of morality. It was a very clear line between humans and demons for me. Left little to contemplation and everything else to my fists. It was easier, I'll tell you that, but I know that's not how life is. Life's all about the ambiguities--I know that now. Hell, I should've bought that clue when Angel went Postal but, of course, I chalked it up as a fluke or something. Anyway, Warren showed me what humans were truly capable of and," I stare at him pointedly, hoping he gets what I'm about to say next, "I also realized what some demons were capable of, despite their nature." His expression doesn't change and I can't help but feel dejected, yet I truck on.
"Well, after a few minor adjustments in the Buffy-POV, I tried to focus my attention more on Dawn. Like I said, when we were trapped in that grave, she fought so well. You would have been proud of her."
"I'm always proud of the 'Bit," he says with complete sincerity though the huskiness in his voice lets me know that he is still hurting big-time from Dawn's less than thrilling reaction to him. But we can talk about that later. Right now I want to tell him about me--and this ring.
"Yeah. Well, of course, after we got home and settled, guess who's bugging me twenty-four seven about training her? Well, after what I saw, I only put up token resistance, though when it came time for her to want to patrol, Buffy threw quite a hissy fit. But I'll save that for later.
"Well, about that time--it was about a week after…you left--I quit the Doublemeat Hellhole. I just couldn't take it anymore. And don't get a big head about this," I wag my finger at him, "but you were right about that place. Killing me, I mean. It was like every second I was in there, a part of me whittled away, and I had to fight like hell to get all those missing pieces back." No way am I gonna tell him that there are still a few pieces missing from the jigsaw that is me because I really don't know what it is exactly that I am missing.
"Anyway, the next day I started the job search and by Friday of the next week I was gainfully employed at Sunnydale Savings & Loan. Considering my skill set, I was really lucky to be hired on especially since Old Navy was my other choice."
"Seems to me that the clothing gig would have fit you to a tee, luv," he interjects, a wry grin plastering his face.
"Uh, well, Spikey dear," I give him the same sarcastic voice that he always gives me, "since I am trying to save money, it wouldn't have been in my best interests to work in such a tempting environment." My smugness disappears when I see him smirk and open his mouth for a rejoinder obviously littered with innuendo.
"Anyway," I say a little too loudly but he gets the point yet his smirk remains firmly in place. "Like I said, Sunny D's S&L was a perfect fit. I had a set schedule that I could tweak if need be and the pay was quite the upgrade from the Meat Factory."
"The people there were pretty good to me from the start, especially my trainer. His name was--is--Garrett. Garrett Morgan." I pause, unsure of how much to tell him about me and Gare, and he takes notice, stroking my shoulder affectionately, encouraging me to continue.
I ignore the chill that scampers up my spine at his touch and resume my diatribe. "Well, it took him about a week of throwing out hints before he asked me out. I politely declined although I did kinda like him. Not like that," I cover when I see the hints of a deep scowl start to appear across the face of my former lover, "well, not then at least," I add quietly. I so don't want to hurt Spike, especially considering how much I had done it in the past. But at the same time, I can't just sugar coat everything or I'll never get through to the truth. And the truth is what Spike deserves.
Even if I have no freakin' clue about what truth I'm aiming for.
"It took me over a month to finally agree to go out with him and that was in no small part to Dawn's incessant whining of me getting a life." I think back to the picture I saw in his office--the one of Dawnie and me on our picnic. "The day you were here, taking the picture of me and Dawn, was the day I finally gave in to her bugging me." It was the day I felt things change and I just knew that Spike was dead and I can't help but to wonder if that, and not Dawn's persistence, was the reason I accepted Garrett's offer to go out.
I shake my head, erasing the thought from my head in fear of what else my filter into my already overloaded cranium. "Needless to say, the first date was not what I would call a success. I was in a bitchy mood…"
"You didn't beat him up did you?" Spike asks, and despite his good-natured jibe, the comment still hurts me a little. I guess he sees it because he mutters an apology and looks away for a few seconds before turning back to me.
"To answer your question, smart-ass," I quip, hoping to mask the hurt and I think I do a good job, "I didn't beat him. It was just one of those non-talkative days for me. He didn't help it, either, being all nervous and stuff."
"Do you think--" Spike begins nervously.
"Do I think what?"
"Do you…do you think that had anything to do with me--thinking I was dead, I mean?" He finished hesitantly and I can hear the remorse in his voice but that's not all. Call me crazy, but it's almost as if I sense the barest sliver of hope underneath it all.
Choosing to ignore it for now, I answer him honestly. "I don't know." Okay, so I'm not being honest--with him or myself. I know I told him I changed but I also reminded him that there's that residual sliver of 'denial Buffy' just hanging around. I really have to get rid of it, especially if I want to erase even a fraction of the hurt that still lies between Spike and I.
I bite my bottom lip when I see his crestfallen appearance. Guess he was hoping I would say yes--kinda morbid but, then again, I can see where he's coming from. All he wants--all he's ever wanted, is to be cared for and to have someone look at him in a way other than disdain. Really can't say I blame him, though. It's only human to desire acceptance and Spike is human...
My eyes bulge at my choice of words and I vaguely notice Spike's concern though I do nothing to acknowledge it. It's only human to desire acceptance, I repeat to myself trying to grasp the reality of it. No matter how sorry I have been these last two years for my past behavior against Spike, I don't think I have ever seen him as anything other than a special vampire. I understand that everything is not black and white, but are the shades of gray that dark? Shit, I need a drink.
I stand suddenly and Spike follows suit and it's a definite that he senses my nervousness. Thankfully, he doesn't pressure me; he just cocks his head to the side before asking, "Fancy another walk, luv?" I smile gratefully and nod. He bows gracefully and waves his hand away from us. "Always after you, madam."
"Theatrical much?" I roll my eyes though his grandiose gesture has me fighting like mad to contain the smile about to break free. Damn it, too late.
I snort at his pleased expression before walking off. Of course, I can't let him think he's won that easily. I stop suddenly and languidly run my hands down my hips and toss my hair to the side, throwing over my shoulder, "And you may wanna keep your eyes from being glued to my butt like you were before," and I walk off.
I stifle a giggle when I hear an all too familiar grunt and his soft footfalls as he catches up with me. Out the corner of my eye, I notice his hands are buried deeply in the pockets of his khakis while his attention is focused straight ahead. I almost laugh aloud when I see the embarrassed tinge his skin has taken on but I keep my amusement to myself.
The brush of our arms sends another tingle across my flesh, and I rue the day that this indescribable feeling goes away. I mean, it would make things so much easier, but at the same time, I don't think simple and easy really agree with me.
I absently fiddle with the ring on my finger and think of how close I am to realizing my dreams for a normal life. But an all too big part of me, hidden in the shadows, is whispering--whispering softly about how normal isn't for me and never will be.
For the umpteenth time in two days, I brush the thought away and concentrate on telling Spike the rest about Garrett. Maybe, just maybe, if I concentrate on words and not my emotions, I can get through this.
But you know your words cut Spike more than your fists ever did. I want to scream at the resigned truth of my thought but think better of it, considering Spike may think I'm a nut.
I curse at the empty feeling that washes over me. I know that, no matter how easy I go on him, Spike is going to be hurt with what I have to say but it can't be helped. If only I was the old Buffy, I really would ignore the stab of guilt that always came over me when I hurt him, purposely or otherwise. Yeah, it'd be so much easier but it's not going to be that easy.
Because deep down, and on the surface, hurting Spike again is the last thing that I want to do.
***
The couple walked around the park for the better part of an hour, making small talk and admiring the beautiful day as they had on the walk over to the park. The companionship they shared was comfortable to say the least yet in the back of their minds, both knew that they could only prolong the inevitable and that Buffy would have to finish the rest of her tale soon.
When Buffy finally garnered the resolve to continue, she narrated the rest of the events of her personal involvement with Garrett with an almost detached voice.
After the first disaster date, she had shied away from Garrett at work, only passing pleasantries along when it was necessary and feeling awkward whenever they were alone for more than a minute. Despite her aloofness, Garrett continued in his attempts to reach Buffy. He had tried his best to get it through his head that they would never be more than friends but following that notion was easier said then done. From the first day, he had felt an almost supernatural pull toward her and he dared not to deny it. He had refused to be defeated by Buffy's seemingly indifferent attitude toward him and maintained his cheerful exuberance toward her despite the constant lurch in his stomach at the jagged rift growing between them.
"Then one day," Buffy said, the memories as fresh as they had happened merely hours ago. "He just kinda snapped. I was on lunch at the Expresso Pump and he was coming from the store next door--it was his off day. So he tried to start a conversation and I was really nasty to him. Not 'I hate you' nasty, but overly sarcastic. Well, after I said something completely out of line, he really turned the tables on me.
"He told me how cozy it must feel hiding behind that--and I quote--'nice little shell of yours where nothing is ever your fault and you're always the victim.'" Spike snorted in agreement though Buffy chose to ignore it.
"Well, you could probably guess that I didn't take that too well and struck back at him about running away from things." Buffy had told Spike earlier of Garrett's migration from San Francisco because he couldn't be in the same city where his girlfriend disappeared. "I think that was the first time I had seen him mad…no, he wasn't mad: he was pissed." Buffy laughed uneasily at the memory of Garrett's pain-filled eyes when her words cut into him. She had immediately regretted what she had said but didn't know what to do to rectify it.
Though the tears had clawed and swan in his light gray eyes, Garrett had held them at bay. Contrary to the anger and pain that coursed through him, his voice had been eerily calm when he had told Buffy "If anyone is running, it's the guy that was here before me. That's the only excuse for how you act around me, or even when other guys approach you. And to think, I thought that a guy would be out of his mind to leave you but if you treat everyone like you've done me, I really don't blame him for leaving…"
The unease in Spike's gut continued to spread after every word Buffy spook, but her words concerning what Garrett had said to her riled him visibly and he growled instinctively.
"Spike," Buffy said softly and touched his arm. Her hand vibrated from the tension in his muscles and she squeezed his taut bicep firmly, imploring him to look at her by force of will alone.
"The wanker had no right to say that to you," he managed through clinched teeth, his nails biting into his palms as he fought to reign in his overwhelming urge to find this Garrett and pummel him into oblivion.
"You're wrong, Spike," Buffy replied and was relieved when he trained his gaze on her.
"I'm wrong? How do you figure? What that bloody pillock said…"
"Was right on the money and you know it. After I came back I was not a very good person. It's not that I was a bitch to everyone. Just the ones I cared about. Kind of ironic, isn't it? Being nice and friendly to strangers but cold and on the defensive with those closest to me. I'm not saying that I did that to everyone, all the time, but when someone was trying to show me how much they cared, I was the big-pusher off-er, not wanting people to get too close. It did get better, thanks to you," she poured her gratitude into her gaze, hoping that Spike would receive the message.
"But, even if I had improved after I climbed out of that grave with Dawn, there were still things that I was slow on the uptake with and Garrett's words rang a lot truer than I was ready for. You know I broke down right there and Garrett just held me. It was just like one of my walls just crumbled and I was no longer hiding behind anything. I let him in that day and it wasn't long before we were together. That's not to say that there weren't times when I reverted back to the old Buffster--hell, even now I sometimes do that--but Gare never let me do the pity thing anymore. And the things that opened up to me, emotionally, were amazing. Even my slaying got better, and I think I finally accepted it. That's not to say that I enjoy it all the time, but I understand that slaying's a part of me and being that, I am just one of the many shades of gray that this world is colored in. My purpose may be of the light but my powers are still cloaked in the darkness--you were right about that but you were wrong about me belonging in the darkness." Though Buffy said this with no malice, Spike still felt a prickle of guilt remembering his harsh words to her in the Bronze the night in question.
Lost in her own memories, Buffy was unaware of Spike's malaise, thus continued her explanation. "Things progressed pretty fast between us in those few months and we were always together. Everyone liked him except maybe Xander. I think it was because Garrett took up my time and that he started patrolling with me." On Spike's look she said, "I know, I know. But I guess when I told him all of that he couldn't resist being at my side. Of course, he made sure that I knew that he wasn't trying to protect me but the innocent people around him. To be honest, he really can take care of himself, at least as well as Riley in his Initiative days. But anyway, everything fell into place and we were going great. Then four months ago, he asked me…"
Spike's two-year-old heart constricted at the words that followed, and it took all his willpower not to cry out in agony. He had already surmised that actually hearing Buffy tell him she was engaged was much worse than seeing the ring on her finger and he didn't think he could deal anymore. At least not now.
"And then, about two months ago…" but she was interrupted by Spike's hand on her shoulder.
"Buffy, I can't," he whispered on shaky breaths.
"Wha…"
"I can't do this now?"
"Do what Spike?"
"This!" He spat and waved violently between them.
"What? You don't want to--what? --Be around me?" Her anger was beginning to simmer though it was held in check by her hurt feelings. She knew it was going to be tough for him, but if she was sure about one thing in her complex life, it was that she wanted Spike in it in one way or another.
Spike snorted in derision. Leave it to bloody Buffy to think it's all her again. Staring at the sky, he didn't see the hazel flash of her eyes or how she thrust her hands against her hips.
"What?" she demanded and the anger was clearly above the hurt. "Are you trying to say this isn't about me? That I'm just doing the whole self-pity thing?"
Spike's frustration reached its zenith but as quickly as it had risen, it all dissipated. He lowered his eyes and ran shaky fingers through his hair. "Buffy…" he began but was quickly interrupted.
"Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I enjoy telling you all this knowing that it's going to hurt you? Well, believe it or not William, but hurting you is the last thing I want to do--the last thing I ever want to do," she yelled as an unbidden tear streaked down her face.
Spike opened his arms to her and Buffy took the invite. She leaned into him, her ear picking up the staccato beat of his heart as she was comforted by his familiar scent though she had yet to get used to his undeniable warmth. The arms encircling her now, though mortal, held every bit of strength that she remembered from their times together and she welcomed it.
She did not want to talk about depressing things anymore though she knew there were still things he needed to hear, to understand. Of course, she wasn't sure he would understand, considering that she didn't get it herself. All she knew was that as difficult as it all appeared to be now, life was only going to get more complicated.
Reading her thoughts like he always had, Spike gently pushed Buffy away by the shoulders and stared at her with all the love and understanding he could muster. He saw relief flood her eyes at the lack of expectation in his blue swirls.
"Let's not talk about this now," he graced her with a warm smile. "I'm not goin' anywhere, luv, so there'll be plenty of time to chat the rest of this out later."
"Thank you," Buffy said gratefully and allowed her former lover to lead her out of the park. As she listened to his playful banter, she was thankful to him for the reprieve but she really didn't know how to express it to him. And it was in that moment that Buffy knew.
She loved him.
But what she didn't know was what shape her love was took. Was it as a friend or…more? Shaking the thoughts out of her head, she concentrated on the now and would worry about what she felt later. After all, he wasn't going anywhere.
And neither was she.
***Well, I m finally done, two days behind schedule. I've noticed that my conversations are starting to go where they want to go. I won't say what happens in the next chapter but in the next two or three, I will finally introduce Garrett and Spike will get Dawn alone. That will be an interesting conversation.
***Part 7 will be out sometime this weekend. I have to start updating Family Ties during the week.
***Please leave reviews chock full of comments and suggestions.