"Well, bye."
"See ya"
But they'd never say goodbye so easily.
"What are you going to tell Angel?"
"What do you mean?" She was playing him. Despite his apparent exasperation, she knew he loved it- the sass and the teasing, replacing their last few meetings earnestness and disgust.
"You know what I mean. About what we talked about."
"I'll tell him what he needs to know." She smiled sweetly at him.
He rolled his eyes, and spread his arms in an appeal to the gods. "Oh, heaven save me from the slayer attempting to be enigmatic." He lowered his head to look her in the eye."I always liked you best when I could tell everything you were feeling with just a look, pet."
"I thought you could always tell what I was feeling with just a look, Spike?" She copied the way he'd stressed the words.
"Nah... well, I liked to think I could." His mood suddenly turned, and his voice lowered, and the tone became confessional. "Buffy, that's why what happened happened. Because I didn't know for sure what you were feeling, and I couldn't believe what you were telling me was the truth, I thought if I could...."
"What? What did you think you could do" Her voice was hard, and soft, just as she loved and hated. She knew they hadn't said enough last night, but she didn't want this conversation. He was so intense, and the conversation would trawl everything she'd tried to fix these last months. Make it all new again.
"I knew sex with me made you feel good, physically. I thought.... have you ever seen Gone with the Wind?"
Buffy nodded. It was all she could do. She could tell this was hard for him, but, fuck, this was hard for her, too. And now he wanted to test her cinematic knowledge.
"Well, you know the scene, where Scarlett walks into the dining room for a drink, and Rhett's already there, drunk, and he sweeps her up the stairs and basically forces himself on her? And the next morning she's at least a little bit in love with him? I thought it might be a bit like that. That you know, you really did want me, that you'd get into it after a while, and then everything could be... not back the way it was, but better than that. That we'd be together."
She studied him for a second, trying to process all the emotions his speech has roused. Anger came first, and it fueled her reply. "So what happened in the bathroom, when you tried to rape me, Spike, was actually my fault for not sharing my every emotion with you, and a movie's fault for giving you some twisted romantic imagery."
"Fuck, if that was what I thought, slayer, then to fix the whole mess I would have enrolled you in psychotherapy and written a strongly worded letter to the film's distributors. I know it's my fault. I went and got me and your Angel a soul because of it, didn't I?"
Something was suddenly confirmed for Buffy. "That's why you went to Angel. So he could get the soul for keeps and we could be together."
Spike was silent, so Buffy heard the car that would take her to the airport pull up out the front. His face was twisted in a way that told her he wanted to answer her using sarcasm or facetiousness. Her look quietened him, and after a pause he instead choose:
"There was so much guilt straight after I got the soul. I had to do something to relieve it. And as much as I will always love you, as much as everything in my life is a reaction to something you've said or done or wanted..." He stopped. He'd been building to some kind of crescendo, but his grandeur had deserted him. He began again, quietly and quickly, looking through the window's slats at her waiting car and driver. "I went to get the soul so you'd love me. And once I got the soul, I realised turning up on your doorstep, making you responsible for what I am now, it's just finishing what I started in the bathroom. Forcing what I want out of you. The only way I could relieve any of the guilt, that I could begin to move anywhere, was to give you something I knew you wanted. Or, at least, make it available for you. What you and him did with what I told him was up to you."
She thought, considered for a long time "I don't think the two balance each other out, Spike. I don't think helping Angel and I find a way to be together cancels out what happened in the bathroom.". She paused to think some more, and he interrupted her, the way she'd known he would.
"The world doesn't work-"
"Shut up, Spike! Jeez. I was getting there on my own. Can't I have big emotional breakthroughs without you constantly butting in? What I was going to say, is it changes who you are."
"Well, duh, slayer."
She sighed and picked up her bag. "I wouldn't have felt responsible for you if you'd come back to Sunnydale with the soul. I'm very willing to let you take the responsibility for every stupid, idiotic thing you do."
"Slayer, I know you. You're the planet's most intriguing mix of compassion and self-obsession."
She turned towards the exit, trying to hide her grin at his hyperbole. "Spike, why do you always have to be so fucking dramatic? Don't you have any restraint at all, any sense of proportion?"
"Well...no, slayer. I'd have thought that would be obvious by now." She was at the swinging doors now. The near end of the conversation made her reckless.Hope's never really bad, right?
"Good. Don't ever change that, ok? And don't dye your hair. I like it this way."
"See ya"
But they'd never say goodbye so easily.
"What are you going to tell Angel?"
"What do you mean?" She was playing him. Despite his apparent exasperation, she knew he loved it- the sass and the teasing, replacing their last few meetings earnestness and disgust.
"You know what I mean. About what we talked about."
"I'll tell him what he needs to know." She smiled sweetly at him.
He rolled his eyes, and spread his arms in an appeal to the gods. "Oh, heaven save me from the slayer attempting to be enigmatic." He lowered his head to look her in the eye."I always liked you best when I could tell everything you were feeling with just a look, pet."
"I thought you could always tell what I was feeling with just a look, Spike?" She copied the way he'd stressed the words.
"Nah... well, I liked to think I could." His mood suddenly turned, and his voice lowered, and the tone became confessional. "Buffy, that's why what happened happened. Because I didn't know for sure what you were feeling, and I couldn't believe what you were telling me was the truth, I thought if I could...."
"What? What did you think you could do" Her voice was hard, and soft, just as she loved and hated. She knew they hadn't said enough last night, but she didn't want this conversation. He was so intense, and the conversation would trawl everything she'd tried to fix these last months. Make it all new again.
"I knew sex with me made you feel good, physically. I thought.... have you ever seen Gone with the Wind?"
Buffy nodded. It was all she could do. She could tell this was hard for him, but, fuck, this was hard for her, too. And now he wanted to test her cinematic knowledge.
"Well, you know the scene, where Scarlett walks into the dining room for a drink, and Rhett's already there, drunk, and he sweeps her up the stairs and basically forces himself on her? And the next morning she's at least a little bit in love with him? I thought it might be a bit like that. That you know, you really did want me, that you'd get into it after a while, and then everything could be... not back the way it was, but better than that. That we'd be together."
She studied him for a second, trying to process all the emotions his speech has roused. Anger came first, and it fueled her reply. "So what happened in the bathroom, when you tried to rape me, Spike, was actually my fault for not sharing my every emotion with you, and a movie's fault for giving you some twisted romantic imagery."
"Fuck, if that was what I thought, slayer, then to fix the whole mess I would have enrolled you in psychotherapy and written a strongly worded letter to the film's distributors. I know it's my fault. I went and got me and your Angel a soul because of it, didn't I?"
Something was suddenly confirmed for Buffy. "That's why you went to Angel. So he could get the soul for keeps and we could be together."
Spike was silent, so Buffy heard the car that would take her to the airport pull up out the front. His face was twisted in a way that told her he wanted to answer her using sarcasm or facetiousness. Her look quietened him, and after a pause he instead choose:
"There was so much guilt straight after I got the soul. I had to do something to relieve it. And as much as I will always love you, as much as everything in my life is a reaction to something you've said or done or wanted..." He stopped. He'd been building to some kind of crescendo, but his grandeur had deserted him. He began again, quietly and quickly, looking through the window's slats at her waiting car and driver. "I went to get the soul so you'd love me. And once I got the soul, I realised turning up on your doorstep, making you responsible for what I am now, it's just finishing what I started in the bathroom. Forcing what I want out of you. The only way I could relieve any of the guilt, that I could begin to move anywhere, was to give you something I knew you wanted. Or, at least, make it available for you. What you and him did with what I told him was up to you."
She thought, considered for a long time "I don't think the two balance each other out, Spike. I don't think helping Angel and I find a way to be together cancels out what happened in the bathroom.". She paused to think some more, and he interrupted her, the way she'd known he would.
"The world doesn't work-"
"Shut up, Spike! Jeez. I was getting there on my own. Can't I have big emotional breakthroughs without you constantly butting in? What I was going to say, is it changes who you are."
"Well, duh, slayer."
She sighed and picked up her bag. "I wouldn't have felt responsible for you if you'd come back to Sunnydale with the soul. I'm very willing to let you take the responsibility for every stupid, idiotic thing you do."
"Slayer, I know you. You're the planet's most intriguing mix of compassion and self-obsession."
She turned towards the exit, trying to hide her grin at his hyperbole. "Spike, why do you always have to be so fucking dramatic? Don't you have any restraint at all, any sense of proportion?"
"Well...no, slayer. I'd have thought that would be obvious by now." She was at the swinging doors now. The near end of the conversation made her reckless.Hope's never really bad, right?
"Good. Don't ever change that, ok? And don't dye your hair. I like it this way."
