White Picket Fences part three (all the usual stuff in part one)
Buffy's bare feet touched warm wood, a feeling so familiar and safe that it was a shock to experience it after her fears. She felt a little dizzy and sank down on the couch she sensed at the back of her knees.
Buffy opened her eyes. Curious eyes stared at her, all half known, half-unknown. Alex, no, Xander stepped forward, his eyes doing a strange little dance of avoiding and meeting hers. He offered her his check shirt, that she accepted politely before realizing he meant her to cover her still bared breasts with it.
She blew out a slow breath. Her head cleared a little and she took stock of the little group of anxiously staring people standing around her. Alder, Willow now, Giles, Dawn, and there, behind Giles, Spike, who was looking at her warily. They were all waiting for her to speak. As usual. She sank back into the couch and closed her eyes briefly. Okay. She could do this.
She'd done this before, opened her eyes into another world than she closed them in, and it never got any less painful. She was prepared for the pain of memory crashing down this time, and remembered to throw the waiting minions a bone.
"Thanks, guys, for bringing me back." So, that was done. "It's a little overwhelming, though. Could you maybe give me some space? Let me shower and dress first before I tell all?" Spell it out for them, the dear friends, that someone who'd been blissfully unaware of apocalypses and evil needed, say, a couple of minutes to get used to it again? They got it, and with nods and relieved smiles left her alone. She let herself sink into the soft cushions of the couch and closed her eyes. When silence reigned, she opened one eye to check if everyone really had gone. Yeah, they had, even Spike. She'd talk to him later.
She pushed herself off the couch with her arms and staggered a little when she stood. God, she was stiff. How long had it been? At least a couple of days. She hadn't noticed in Sunnyvale, but she felt as exhausted as if she hadn't been sleeping for days. Maybe sleep in the demon world didn't really count as sleep. She stared at the skirt and little twin set she was wearing. It seemed like a century ago, instead of mere years, that's she'd delighted in dressing up in the real world, doing her hair in complicated knots, coordinated colors and little handbags, colored nail polish. These days, she just grabbed a top and a pair of jeans from the closet and shrugged them on. No time for adornment and hair experiments.
When Buffy returned, comfortable in old sweats and a hasty ponytail, the whole assembly was gathered in the living room. Dawn had personally warmed up her favorite kind of pizza for her and she wolfed it down before starting her story.
"And then," she concluded, "everything happened at once. Thunder, rain, roofs splitting, the earth moving, the portal opened, and I followed Spike through it."
"The earth moved?" Giles' eyebrows rose and started fussing with his glasses. Buffy eyed him warily. "So the prison world became unstable before the portal opened?"
Buffy had a hard time avoiding Willow's eyes, as she just knew she'd burst out laughing if she did. She shouldn't have said that about the earth moving, but it was such fun to tease Giles and Spike. Although she couldn't actually look them in the eye.
"Yeah," she said. "The whole world was falling apart for days, you know. All the normal things that happen here, and never ever happened there, started up at once: Rain, flowers, bees, humping bunnies – in fact ever since Spike's penetration of the demon world."
There was a suppressed gasp from Willow, and Buffy bit her lip. Giles was thoroughly discombobulated and outraged, effectively silenced. Buffy's' eyes flicked to Spike, who looked flummoxed as well. Mmm. She'd love to flummox Spike some more. Buffy leaned back on the couch.
"I'm sure I've left out a gazillion important details you're all dying to know. Ask and ye shall be answered."
"So, Buffy," Willow started, "How did you find out about what would disrupt the worlds' magic?"
Laughter threatened to bubble out of her again. It was all so bizarre. She tried to restrain herself. This was debriefing. This was work.
"Actually, Spike found it out. I mean, you were there, weren't you, Will? In Alder? I didn't have a single thought in my head as Buffy Anne. I would never have gotten out on my own. They really had me."
"Spike? How did you discover what made the world tick?"
"The demons that trapped Buffy bound her up in a world designed to keep her unaware of who she was and what her powers are. They made a simple copy of the real world, populated it with Buffy's friends and family to keep her happy. The left out all symbols or memories of fertility and sexuality, to keep the world unchanging. But these precautions made it vulnerable at the same time. When Buffy become aware of her sexual feelings again, that influenced the world around her, helping us to create a rift where we could travel through." All this flowed out of Spike without a pause/
"Spike! You even sound like Giles, man!" Xander exclaimed.
"Spike." Giles pronounced the name with distaste. "How exactly did Buffy become aware of her sexuality again?"
"Um, well, the usual way? D'you want me to go into details?"
Giles stared at Spike, then at Buffy. "Buffy? Did Spike do anything unseemly to you?"
"Unseemly?" Buffy guffawed. "Well, yeah, he made me ride the bicycle. He was no gentleman."
"Buffy, I'm serious! You know what I'm referring to."
"Yes, Giles, I know. My evasion is a polite way of saying, none of your business. Okay?"
Buffy stood up, hoping everybody would get the hint and leave off. She walked outside, intending to sit on the back porch, but her feet took her off to the big sycamore. She'd plant her sore butt against that, then. Again. The tree brought up memories she'd have preferred not to access yet. Who'd been right? Buffy Anne, who'd' been incomplete and immature in so many ways, not much more than an artificial construct, really, but who'd known her heart with absoluter certainty and had had the guts to go for it, against every rule her little world had instilled in her. Or she, the real Buffy, wavering between personal choices and the Mission, bowing and nearly breaking under the weight of her friends' opinion?
The cold started to seep up in her stiff limbs, and Buffy heaved herself up with a groan. She put her hands on the rough bark, enjoying the feel of the dry, flakey stuff. Se rubbed her cheek against it carefully. A man's stubbly cheek was both rougher and smoother than bark, more prickly, but also more yielding. Spike's real cheek was always smooth, of course. She suddenly felt ashamed for never having asked about a small thing like shaving. Or about anything. What did she know of him? A couple of small preferences and habits, nothing more. She'd never bothered to ask. And yet she knew who he was, where he lived. She knew him.
Were her feelings and Buffy Anne's the same? Or did hers just seem different seen through all the layers of memory and experience? She could still feel exactly what Buffy Anne had felt for he mailman. It was overwhelming love, absolute and without a doubt, the real thing, pretty scary stuff. Could she dare feel the same? Could she dare offer anything less? Spike wasn't the damaged hero anymore. Since the showdown with Wood, he'd been completely different. He wasn't the guy who would've taken any crumb from her table anymore. If she was gonna offers him anything it had better be enough. It had better be everything she had, or he'd throw it right back in her face.
She walked a circuit around the tree, trailing her hands around the trunk, marveling how the wood held onto the warmth of the day. Maybe she didn't have to decide tonight. Maybe it was wiser and more prudent to sleep on it. Her heart started to thump and her stomach clenched. Maybe not. Her stomach seemed to think waiting was a bad idea. She might not feel the same in the morning. Sleep might dull that wonderful scary feeling that she was not ready to let go ever again. Now or never. She glanced at the house. All the lights were off. She took a deep breath and started of towards the house.
"Buffy." Spike's voice came out of nowhere.
Buffy gave a little bleat of surprise. Some Slayer she was, if a vampire could sneak up on her like that. Even if it was Spike.
She hadn't expected him to turn up, she realized. She'd expected him to wait meekly until she had figured out what she needed to figure out, and came to deliver the verdict. The Spike from a couple of weeks ago would have acted exactly like that, but he change she'd sensed in him must have gone pretty deep. This Spike wasn't meek and respectful and wouldn't keep his distance because she wanted to. This Spike felt he was entitled to an answer, or at least to honesty.
He stood there, in his tight black T-shirt and jeans, radiating power and determination, looking and feeling like the old Spike, but somehow become more than that. Because of her. She'd known all that, of course, but she'd neglected to attach the right emotions to the knowledge, because, wow, it was impressive as hell. Her monster, who'd become a man for her. And what a man. She swallowed, mesmerized by the contrast between his pale upper arms and the darkness of his T-shirt. Upper arms. An overwhelming, deeply scary physical presence, making her quiver from six feet distance. Oh yeah. She hadn't realized she didn't like him humble, but she knew she liked him like this. Exactly like this.
"So talk to me, Buffy," he said evenly.
"You mad at me already?" She tried for playful.
He flicked her a quick, tense grin. "Not mad. Just impatient. Waited long enough for you."
Her temper flared. "I noticed that. You had some gall having sex with Buffy Anne! And now if I don't decide double-quick that I love you forever you're gonna go?"
He nodded. "Something like that. I'll help you through the next apocalypse, of course, I promised I would. But if you're never gonna return my feelings I'd best move on, don't you think? Not hang around yapping at your heels like a bloody puppy-dog."
Buffy wanted to say, 'but I love you, Spike,' and all that came out when she opened her mouth was a sob. There was no stopping the crying, it came from somewhere deep inside her and kept gushing out. She stood there and bawled like a baby, tears and snot streaming down her face, hands loose and helpless. After a moment, Spike sighed and gathered her in his arms. All those tears, that should have come out years ago, she supposed, kept flowing and flowing until she was completely exhausted. Three deaths worth of crying, three boyfriends, three times memory coming flooding in again after grateful oblivion.
She leaned against Spike's smooth chest, warm from her own body heat, feeling helpless and weak like a baby and getting comforted like one. Finally she quieted.
"Sorry to be so limp," she mumbled.
"Limp is fine," he said, "Limp is good." He shifted a bit to ease his position. "You want a glass of water? Tissues?" He made as if to move away and she clung onto him needily.
"No. Please? Don't go? Just hold me, Spike."
"'Course, love," he said.
That word caused another silent wash of tears, but thank god, they dried up more quickly. They settled down against the tree, exactly like Buffy Anne and the mailman had. It felt completely natural to do it with Spike.
"You know it was kinda tempting to stay in the Buffy Anne-world?"
His brows drew together . "Why?" he asked bluntly.
She took a deep breath. Talk, don't think about what you are leaning against. Don't think about how he feels cold and hard, and the mailman was warm and soft. About how you prefer cold and hard, because that had always been so much easier to reject.
"Mom and Dad being together…being a family again."
"What about Dawn then? You've got family right here."
He was so perceptive. He wasn't going to let her get away with anything. She thought some more. "Okay," she admitted. "I guess I should have said, being a child again, with no responsibilities, was appealing."
"That's not so bad, Buffy. You got lot on your shoulders. Who'd blame you for needing a release from that?"
She sighed. "As usual, I'm my own sternest judge."
She let her head drop back against Spike's chest. Maybe it wasn't so bad to feel the wish to let go of everything, to just be held and cuddled and not have to think of apocalypses and leading armies of girls. Spikes' arms snaked around her securely, holding her just so, intensifying the warm scary feeling that had taken up residence in her guts. She rested her hands on his legs. He put his mouth to her ear, sending shivers down her spine, and said in that rich chocolate voice of his, "Talk, Buffy."
At the sound of his voice, a wave of lust crashed through her and she tightened her hold on Spike's legs involuntarily. In one fluid motion, Spike sat up straight and heaved her off his lap.
"None of that, now, Buffy. Speak up or go. I'm tired of being stalled or played with." He really was angry now.
What was stopping her from saying it now? She loved him didn't she? Panicking like an idiot again, she grabbed his hands and hung on for dear life.
"Spike, I…" Her throat closed up. She could kick herself. Speak, Buffy, speak!
"Spike, this is so hard for me. I…" She finally dared meet his eyes, and saw his whole demeanor had softened. A smile almost tugged at his mouth, and his eyes held the sweetest look. Oh, good, he knew, she didn't have to…She moved in for a kiss. Spike held her at arm's length and raised his eyebrows.
"You're really gonna have to say it first, Buffy," he said steadily.
Tears started pouring from her eyes again. She inched closer. "I love you," she whispered through glass splinters in her throat. She was crushed to him in the best inhumanly tight way and for all she cared he could crush her until she disappeared right into him. A fierce triumph shone on his face when he lifted his head from her neck.
"Bloody hell, Buffy, I thought you'd never say it…" he said, his voice as hoarse as her own.
"Buffy Anne was me, Spike," Buffy answered fiercely. "She wasn't cluttered up with excess baggage, and she knew for sure she loved you. I might not have had the guts to say this without her, you know that?"
"I do."
FINIS