Disclaimer, etc. as on first chapter.
A/N: Finally! The plan! And, typically, just as I'm nearing the end, I've come up with another idea to make the damn thing even longer… but it will be fluffy, so I suppose that makes up for it. Anyway, as for this chapter, I figured it was about time Buffy and Spike had an argument to clear the air, so, even though it doesn't necessarily advance the plot very much, I've included it here. Mainly because the kiss from Chapter 18 wasn't meant to be there at all, and has now completely messed up the thing I had planned by throwing in conflict that wasn't supposed to happen. But hey, it's all par for the course…
This is probably a lesson in how you should never annoy a tetchy vamp…
Enjoy…
Chapter Nineteen
When Buffy finally got over the shock of Spike's ultimatum, she returned to the dining room. Everyone was chatting quietly amongst themselves, and Spike was slouching against the far wall, avoiding her gaze, his annoyed, hurt expression still obvious. She sighed, and took a seat at the head of the table, clearing her throat to get everyone's attention.
When everyone quietened down, she wasn't entirely sure how to start. She stared at the expectant faces around her. Finally, having had enough, and wanting to get it over with as soon as possible, Spike was the first to speak. "All right, Slayer. What's this plan, then?"
Nobody else seemed to notice his irritated tone, save possibly Willow, who cast him a briefly curious glance before focussing back on Buffy. The Slayer sighed. "Okay. I guess you're all wondering where I was yesterday." There were several nods. "Well – and don't tell me what a stupid idea it was – I went to see how far out of town that Magic was." Giles started to protest, as she knew he would. "It's okay, Giles, I didn't even get close to it… it was so powerful I could feel it from a mile away. Anyway, it's far enough away that Sunnydale isn't in any immediate danger… but it's moving closer; we have to work fast. Tomorrow, if possible. Tonight at best."
"No can do tonight, Buff," said Xander, genuinely apologetic, indicating his injured arm.
"Xander's right," clarififed Giles. "He has to keep his arm more or less immobile for another twenty-four hours. The damage isn't too serious, but… as a precaution."
Buffy nodded. "That's fine. Tomorrow it is, then. Everyone else okay with that?" There were more nods. "Right. Here's the plan. First of all, Willow, you need to purge that residual Magic inside you. Like you said, it'll be easier and much more logical to purge it into the larger whole."
Willow looked thoughtful. "You're right-"
"That's dangerous, Buffy," interrupted Spike. "You really think she's strong enough? What if it tries to take her over again?"
"I've thought of that, Spike," she replied, annoyed that he'd think she wouldn't. "In his current state, Xander can't really do much, and I wouldn't want to risk damaging him further." She turned to address the accused. "The best you can do is help Willow. Keep hold of her and keep her alert. Can you do that?"
He looked at Willow. "You can count on it."
Willow spoke up again. "I think I can do it, Buffy. I feel… strong enough to purge it safely."
"Good," she said, with a reassuring nod. "Right. Anya and Giles, you two are in charge of the books. Anya, you know what was in them before, right?"
"Yes."
"And you know which they were?" The demon nodded. "All right… I need you to go to the Magic Box and collect them all, and bring them back here."
"Will do. Anything else?"
Buffy thought. "Um… when the time comes, let us know when it's all back in there." Anya nodded again, already making a mental inventory of the books she'd need to collect.
"What about me?" asked Giles.
"You can help Anya. I don't want anyone working alone. Also, it's still got the magic from that coven you visited inside it, and you're the expert on that."
Giles nodded, sharing a look with Willow, then said, "As far as I know, it's harmless."
"Yeah," added the redhead, who'd had more or less personal experience with it during her rampage. "It doesn't have the same evil intent, so it doesn't really matter much where it goes, if it goes anywhere… It might just, y'know, dissolve…"
Giles continued, "They mentioned something about it having a sort of homing device, as it were… Presumably, once it's free of the grasp of the Dark Magic, it'll find its way back to the coven and they can deal with it. It was only meant to be inside me for long enough to… um…" He stopped momentarily to think of the right phrasing. "To… help Willow, so…"
Buffy gave a single, brief nod of affirmation. "Noted." She turned to her sister. The younger brunette was sulking, thinking she was going to be left out again as she hadn't, so far, been called upon for use in the Big Plan. "Dawn…"
She looked up, beaming. "I can help?"
"Yes."
"How?" she asked, eagerly.
Buffy smiled at her enthusiasm. "Well… Okay… when Will purges the Magic from her system, I have no idea what could happen. The bigger Magic might try to take her over. I need you to help Xander keep her on the ground, especially since he's the One Armed Bandit right now…" Xander smiled; he really couldn't have gotten injured at a worse time.
Dawn grinned. "Sure thing, Buffy. I won't fail you, you 'll see."
The Slayer smiled supportively at her to show she trusted her. She made a mental note – not that she would ever admit this to Dawn, of course – that if she proved herself in this plan, she might – just might – consider taking her on patrol a few times. After all, she could really do with a few nights off sometimes…
Spike, who had kept quiet through the meeting, broke through her thoughts. "So," he said, "that just leaves-"
"You and me," interrupted Buffy. "Well, first of all, you're the only one with a car big enough to get everyone across town."
Before she could explain her 'second of all', he said, "Oh. That's great, that is. I get to play bloody chauffeur for the Scooby gang while they save the world again." Aside from the anger he was still feeling after what had happened in the basement, she could tell he was hurting, too. She was, from his point of view, still using him, only in a different way, and by the sound of things, he'd had enough. He'd obviously been expecting a larger role in the scheme of things; clearly, her confession about not wanting to lose him had fallen on deaf ears.
"Spike," she said, exasperated. "Just… just shut up and listen for a change." He did as ordered, holding her in a contemptuous gaze. "There's something we both have to do; in fact, I think I probably need you most of all in this." Addressing the whole group again, she explained, "We're fighting magic here, guys. Very, very powerful Magic, which has been growing stronger the longer it's been out there. Trapped things that get freedom rarely want to be recaptured, so it's going to be defending itself in any way it can. I could be wrong, but I'm guessing the easiest and most efficient way to do that is to manifest some kind of demon army." Turning back to Spike, she said, "What do you say, Spike? Think you and I can kick some demon butt?"
He looked at her a long time, realising he'd been wrong about her. She obviously had a higher opinion of him than he originally thought. He was still annoyed, however, and his ultimatum still held; the temptation was to let Buffy and her friends deal with this on their own – he hadn't even been around when the Magic got out, and he wasn't obligated in any way to helping them. He never had been… But there was no way in the Hellmouth he was going to let Buffy go out there fighting alone. He sighed at his complete inability to refuse her anything, then said, "Well… I'm still a bit sore from those trials, and from… last night's little escapade, but… yeah. I think we can manage that."
His use of the word 'we', and not 'I', did not go unnoticed. She let out a sigh of relief at having him on the team. "Good. So. That's the plan. Everyone clear?" She was answered by several nods. "Then let's start getting ready. Anya, we need the books; Giles, see if there's some kind of… chant, or something, some way to reverse the removal process; Willow, Xander, you two get rest; Dawn, uh…" She examined her sister's hopeful expression, then shrugged. "Do your homework… I highly doubt the apocalypse excuse works twice…"
Dawn pouted, and walked off; everyone else filed out to their respective destinations. Anya headed off dutifully towards the Magic Box, which was starting to look much more appreciable lately since the rebuilding had started, muttering the titles of the books to herself in an aid to her memory. Giles went up to Willow's room to collect the books that were still up there, before setting up his own little library in the battered lounge, leaving Willow and Xander to get much needed rest. Everyone had sensed the uneasiness between Buffy and Spike, and had opted to get out of their way before the argument, that was obviously going to happen, started.
Left alone in the dining room, they stared at each other from opposite ends. Buffy could tell by the seriousness of his tone earlier – and the unshifting contempt he was currently holding her in – that she'd finally pushed him too far. She knew, this time, that even her most sincere apology wasn't going to cut it.
Eventually, Spike got bored of their staring match, and made his way towards the front door, brushing past her as he grabbed his duster from the mangled stair rail. She called after him. "Spike, wait…"
"For what?" he asked, spinning to face her. "So I can play some more of your mind games, Slayer? I don't think so, somehow."
She flinched. "No, I…" She trailed off. Luckily, Spike gave her a chance to carry on. "I mean… there is something else you can do in all this."
"Yeah," he said, sighing. "Protect the Bit. I got it." He made to leave again, so she grabbed his arm, lightly.
"No… well, okay, yeah, but… just… be careful…"
In his frustration, Spike had all but forgotten what she'd said earlier. 'I'm going to get you killed…' So that's what she was talking about. She thought he'd end up getting hurt. Ordinarily, he would have been touched by her concern. Unfortunately, he was still angry. "What do you care, anyway?"
With that, he pulled on his coat and left, slamming the door after him. Giles was returning with a second batch of books from upstairs as he did so, and he stopped at the bottom, looking confused. "Buffy? What's going on now?" His Slayer didn't answer; instead, she grabbed her own coat and fled after Spike, slamming the door equally hard. Giles appealed to heaven and muttered to himself about nobody ever telling him anything, then deposited the books on the floor of the lounge.
Spike was halfway down the street by the time Buffy caught up with him, but, even though he could hear her coming, he pointedly ignored her and carried on. She gave up following him and stopped in her tracks, calling after him. "What do you mean, 'what do I care'?"
Spike stopped and paused, cursed himself for being ultimately weak around her, then turned and walked back. A fight was imminent, although he suspected this one would involve words rather than fists. "I mean," he said as he approached, "why should it matter to you if I get hurt tomorrow night? It's never bothered you before."
She frowned. "God, didn't anything I said in the basement sink into that thick skull of yours?" Her expression changed to one of concern, and she reached over to take his hand. "I don't want to lose you again, Spike. I'm sick of losing people I care about…"
His resolve almost melted. Almost. Then the anger took over again and he yanked his hand out of hers. "Oh, sound the bloody trumpets!" he said, sarcastically. "The Slayer's concerned about someone other than herself!"
"That is not fair, Spike!"
"Life isn't fair, Buffy; that's how it works." He turned again, preparing to walk off.
"Don't you dare walk away from me…" He caught something warning in her tone that stopped him from moving, but his back remained towards her, so she wouldn't be able to see his face. "You think I don't care, right?"
"Well-" he mumbled, before she cut him off.
"You think I don't care that… that Willow was slowly killing herself only a week ago? You think I don't care that Tara died from a bullet that was meant for me? That Dawn was turning into a goddamn kleptomaniac under my nose, and I was too wrapped up in my own life to notice? You think I don't care that Xander broke Anya's heart… that she broke his – with you…" Spike's head dropped. He'd been wondering when she'd bring that back up. "Or that Giles loved me too much to stay? That he had to come back to Hell because I couldn't deal?" She took a step closer to Spike and spoke again from directly behind him, quieter. "You honestly think I don't care that Xander nearly killed you last night…"
This last point, he noticed, wasn't a question. She was so sincere it nearly killed him. When he'd regained enough composure to face her, he spun around, startling her into taking a step back again. It would be so easy – maybe too easy – to forgive her again and let the argument lie… but he chose not to. In the long run, they probably both needed this.
Buffy waited for his response, and was surprised when it came. "You're only bothered that you weren't the one on the other end of the stake…"
She threw her arms in the air, frustrated. "If that were true, don't you think I would have staked you the second you were back?!"
"Why," he retaliated, "when you can torment me a little longer? Play a few more rounds of Kick-the-Spike and make fun of the useless, lovesick vampire now he's gone and got himself a soul! That ought to make it even more fun, right? Got a chip and a bloody conscience, now…"
"Okay," she said, calming herself down and trying to be sensible. "I admit it. I was a bitch. I know I hurt you. I also apologised, and I meant it, which you seem to have conveniently forgotten. If you have even an ounce of the humanity you claim, that should mean something."
Spike swallowed all of the retorts he could have made, and instead opted on saying: "Of course it meant something…"
"Well, then," said Buffy, still not entirely comprehending, "what's your problem, exactly?"
His briefly amicable attitude immediately switched back to being annoyed with her. "What's my problem? I should be asking you that."
"My prob-" she began, before being cut off by a sudden loud roll of thunder. Although they hadn't noticed, it had been steadily raining for the past few seconds, getting heavier as their argument continued. It had the potential to pour at any moment. The thunderclap startled her, causing her to jump and look to the sky in brief, automatic terror. Spike fought the sudden protective urge that nearly made him wrap his arms around her, and let her continue what she'd been about to say. Buffy tried again. "My problem is you, Spike."
"Tell me something I don't already know, Slayer."
A sigh. "Okay, I'll rephrase that. My problem is… it's me."
The vampire took a step closer. "I can't believe I'm getting the 'it's not you, it's me' line," he muttered, although his heart wasn't in it any more. It had reached the stage where petty insults and shouting weren't going to get them very far, and, while the weather certainly wasn't clement enough to be having a serious conversation, it seemed to be the only option. Quietly, he asked, "How is it you?"
"Well, it's not just me… It's… us, really…"
"Don't know if you've noticed," he pointed out, "but there's a distinctive lack of 'us' right now. By your choice, if I remember correctly."
"I know, but… maybe that's what I mean…" She wasn't really sure what she was talking about, having not thought about it. Her emotions were still fraught from the basement, and the situation the night before, and nothing made sense in her head, let alone out loud. As anticipated, and as another clap of thunder rolled overhead, the rain started getting heavier, soaking them both within seconds. Neither seemed particularly bothered.
Spike, sensing Buffy's inner struggle to figure out what she was trying to say, merely stood patiently and watched her. "Take your time, pet…" he said.
"Okay…" she began, attempting to make sense of everything. "When you left, I knew I should have been glad of that. My Slayer senses kept telling me to be happy. You were out of my life, finally… but I wasn't happy. I…" She took a deep breath, meeting his eyes. "I missed you…" Clarifying, she repeated, "I missed you, and I knew it was wrong… but I was ready to move on. And then you came back, and you messed everything up all over again…" Before he could apologise – and she could tell he wanted to, because he seemed to be doing nothing else lately – she started again. "I know what you want. I know you want me to love you… but I can't, Spike. I've tried… I can't…"
"Can't or won't?" he asked, with only a small hint of bitterness.
"Can't," she clarified. "It's not a matter of not wanting to, either. I do want to… but… I'll lose you. I know it."
"Buffy…" She looked up expectantly. "I told you before. I'm not leaving you. I'm not like everyone else." He sighed; this next part was difficult. "But I can't carry on like this, with you leading me on all the time. I came back for you; I came back because I couldn't stand being away from you, but… this is killin' me, Slayer… I'm afraid to bloody touch you, after that night…"
She nodded, understanding, and moved slightly closer. "Spike, I am so, so sorry for what happened earlier. I was upset, and you were…" She gave up. "I don't regret it, either. Giles just surprised me."
"We'll just forget it," he suggested. "It'll make life easier for the both of us." Off her confused expression, he explained, adamantly, "What I told you before still stands. You love me. I know you do. But until you admit that to yourself – and to me – I can't be around you. We're both going to get hurt if I stick around. I'm not going to let you fight alone, but after that… I'm gone. I don't see you, you don't see me, neither of us makes any more mistakes."
"But-" she began to protest.
"No 'but's, Buffy. This isn't your game any more." He started to walk off again, away from her.
"Where are you going?" she called after him.
He turned back. "The car needs fillin' up. Unless you want to help me push it tomorrow night."
Spike managed a few more steps before Buffy's voice stopped him a second time. "If it makes any difference at all… I do care, Spike. Really."
And then, he wanted nothing more than to forget the entire argument, run back, and sweep her off out of the torrential rain in some idiotic romantic gesture… but he didn't. It wasn't what he wanted to hear. Carrying on, he said by way of farewell: "I'll see you tomorrow. Get inside before your hair's ruined…"
Buffy watched his retreating back as it disappeared into the night, like some ironic reversal of a knight in shining armour, with his duster shiny and slick from the rain… oh. Rain. It was raining. She was soaked. And Spike was gone, disappeared from her line of vision. Slowly, she turned and headed back the few feet to her house, thinking over their conversation, but not entirely comprehending what had just happened. She opened the front door, stepped inside, and closed it after her, then stood with her back against it. She stared dead ahead, deep in thought, ignoring Giles' curious expression that requested an explanation.
"Buffy?" he asked. "Would you mind explaining-"
His sentence stopped short when he realised she wasn't paying attention to him. He watched as she slid down the door until she was sitting. Giles didn't move at first, since she appeared not to have even noticed him at all. Then, as he continued to watch her, he realised that not only was she soaking wet, but there were tears coursing down her face along with the rain water.
Immediately, he sprang to action, grabbing the blanket he'd been using from the back of the couch and approaching her. He bent to her level, and very carefully wrapped it around her. This was enough, at least, to bring her attention to him. She made no effort to get up. "Giles…"
"What happened?"
"He left…" she said, pointlessly. The rest of her explanation came in short, nonsensical (at least, to Giles) bursts. "He said that… and then he… he left… Oh, God…" She fought down a sob, beginning to shiver. "I thought I couldn't… thought I'd lose him… but… I can't not…" Now trembling violently, she lost the battle against her emotions and broke down. "I love him…"
Giles was surprised by his own reaction. He wasn't shocked, and he wasn't angry. Instead, he was almost relieved she'd finally realised one way or the other. It didn't seem to be a particularly happy revelation, however. Noting that the blanket had shifted, he wrapped it further around her shoulders. Buffy, misinterpreting the gesture, moved slightly forwards until he had no choice but to keep his arms around her. He rocked her slightly until she'd calmed down. "Have you told him?"
She shook her head, frantically. "No… I have to go after him…"
He kept a firm hold of her, helping her to her feet and directing her deliberately away from the front door. "You can tell him another time, Buffy. Right now, you need to dry off and warm up, and get some rest."
She nodded, pulling the blanket further around herself. "I'm sorry… I don't know how this must feel for you… You must be so disappointed in me."
Her Watcher smiled supportively. "Much as I know I should be, I'm not. I'm just… glad that you finally worked out your feelings."
"It is a relief," she admitted, smiling involuntarily. Then, she caught herself. "But I know it's wrong… so why does it feel right, Giles?"
He shook his head somewhat helplessly. "I don't have all the answers, Buffy. But you know Spike loves you; he's proven that much countless times… and you told me yourself that you felt as though you wanted to love him."
She nodded. "I did… I do… God, I have to tell him. Soon…"
"Soon," said Giles, "but not now."
Buffy almost laughed at his words echoing Spike's the day she'd told him it was over, except she didn't feel much like laughing. She made a conscious decision to change the subject. "Did you, uh, find anything?" she asked, indicating the pile of books.
"Yes. There is… a-a sort of incantation, but I'd rather only use it as a last resort."
"Hopefully, it won't reach that stage," she said. "I'd better get rested up."
"Yes…"
There was a briefly awkward silence, and then Buffy turned and headed upstairs. Giles listened to her footsteps until he heard the door close, then he shook his head and returned to the couch and his books, just in case he'd missed anything.
Buffy, upstairs, dried off and got changed, and collapsed onto her bed, emotionally exhausted. Fighting with Spike was a harrowing experience at the best of times; when it was followed by sudden realisations of feelings, it was made all the worse. This realisation couldn't have come at a worse time, either. In the middle of another save-the-world situation, she also now had to deal with her relationship – or the current lack and possibility thereof – with Spike, and how to sort it all out before he gave up on her completely. And to think that only a day ago, she'd been hoping for that same thing to happen.
She re-ran their conversation in her mind as she tried to sleep, but weariness soon took over and she fell into a somewhat erratic slumber, to the sound of the rain buffeting the windows…
To be continued…
Right. Next, hopefully, will be the part I've been dying to write since about chapter 5... So I hope it's as good on paper/screen as it is in my head… Keep those reviews coming, folks.
