"Still Bound" Chapter 13
Last chapter: Spike thought he had Buffy talked into a date but ultimately only had her fist in his face. This chapter: Buffy's birthday sans vengeance curse or demon in the wall. Other things happen instead.
"Happy Birthday dear Buffeee, Happy Birthday to you," warbled the off-key Scooby chorus.
Buffy directed a sunny smile at the assembled group before leaning in to blow out her candles. The smile was getting to be more of an effort as the evening wore on. It was tiring pretending to be jolly. She wondered how mall Santas managed.
Since discovering that Warren and his cronies were responsible for Katrina's death, Buffy was no longer able to overlook their presence in Sunnydale. But they were harder to find than she'd anticipated. She hadn't seen the black van since the day she'd been invisibilized, and the worst part was that Buffy didn't know exactly what to do with the Nerd Trio if she found them. Her job description didn't include hunting and killing dangerous humans - only demons.
Lately, the distinction between what was 'good' or 'bad' Slayer behavior felt pretty murky. It gave Buffy a headache if she thought too hard about her 'mission' and all it connoted ... especially with Spike, the vampire without a soul, added into the mix. All demons inherently evil, right? Spike was just a serial killer imprisoned by a computer chip, right? If she believed anything other than that, she would begin to have doubts about every vampire she dusted, every demon she killed.
But then ... there was Spike. Helping out when he could have organized chaos and mayhem. Fighting alongside the gang when he could have been sending minions to destroy them. And loving Buffy fiercely when he should have been plotting her death. Or maybe he was still hatching some long- term sinister plan and everything that came from his mouth was a lie.
Buffy sighed, sick to death of doubt and confusion.
"You all right, Buffy," Willow asked, concern puckering her forehead. "Are you getting tired? 'Cause we could make it an early night...."
"No!" Dawn cried in distress. "We haven't even started the games yet!" She turned to Buffy. "We're having games; Monopoly, Risk, cards. It'll be a lot of fun. You can't be tired. I don't want everyone to go."
"Of course not," Buffy agreed heartily. "I'm all about the partying. I'm not an invalid, Willow, just a little pregnant. I'll be fine."
"Good!" Dawn said. "Here. Have some cake." She thrust a loaded plate at her sister.
Buffy took fork in hand and began dutifully eating cake, then because it was really good and gooey and rich and chocolatey, she gobbled it down in earnest. When she looked up again, licking frosting from her lips and dabbing at her chin with a napkin, he was there.
Lounging in the living room doorway, shoulder to the wall, Spike had a paper bag clutched in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
"Spike!" Dawn squealed right next to Buffy's ear. "You came!"
"You told me to," he reminded, ignoring the birthday girl and directing all of his attention toward Dawn, who jumped off the couch and went to take the bag from him.
"What's this? Birthday present?" she asked.
"No. Booze," he answered caustically. "Thought I might need it to see me through this little shindig."
Dawn just rolled her eyes at the insult. "You can't smoke in here, you know. Baby, remember?"
Spike didn't argue. He removed the fag from his mouth and crushed it on the bottom of his boot, then flicked the stub into a potted plant. "Better?"
"Much. Hey, what happened to your face? Nasty, horny demon?"
"Mm. Something like that," he said, rubbing thoughtfully at the abraded skin of his cheek. Buffy turned her attention back to her plate and began intently pressing her fork against the crumbs that still lingered there.
"I'll get you some cake," Dawn continued, pulling Spike into the room by the arm and shoving him toward a chair.
Willow and Tara looked up from their giddy flirting just long enough to acknowledge his presence, while Xander shot him a generic glare from across the room then resumed conversation with his work buddy, Richard.
"Hi. Are you a friend of Buffy's?" asked the girl perched on the edge of her chair near Spike. She politely held out a hand, which he didn't take. "I'm Sophie. I work with Buffy at the Doublemeat Palace. Not forever though. I'm taking night classes at the Beauty Academy. I want to be the best cosmetologist in the world. Of course my mom is worried about all the chemical fumes because I'm sensitive to a lot of things, like ammonia and bleach and all petro-chemicals. And she may make me quit beauty school soon because she doesn't think it's safe for me. But I love it and I told her that all the grease and bacteria at DP can't be too good for me either. Now I think she might talk to my manager at work about the conditions there and I might have to look for another job so I can afford to keep on going to the Beauty Academy, which I love."
"Hm." Spike turned away from her brilliant smile and hollered toward the kitchen. "Dawn? How 'bout that cake? And pour me a glass of whiskey while you're at it."
The doorbell rang and Dawn ran from the kitchen to let in the next guest.
Conversation stilled when Anya entered the room. Willow, Tara and Buffy flicked glances at Xander, who was frozen like an agoraphobic in a spotlight. Ignoring him, Anya went straight to Buffy and handed her a brightly wrapped package.
"Since it's customary to show your appreciation of your friends on their natal anniversary with a well-chosen and preferably expensive gift, I have purchased a lovely mantel clock for you which I'm sure will give you many 'hours' of pleasure and use," she said with a wide smile. "And I'll bet it's more expensive than Willow's gift, which she probably bought jointly with Tara, proving that I care more."
"Oh. Uh. Thanks," Buffy said, accepting the gift.
"Aren't you going to open it?"
"Wait!" Dawn shrieked, tearing into the room with Spike's cake in hand. "We're not opening presents yet. Everybody always leaves after presents. We have to play games first!" She handed the cake plate to Spike, who reluctantly took it.
"Where's my drink?"
"Get your own. I'm not a barmaid!" Dawn scowled at him.
"Will there be gambling involved in the games?" Anya asked, dropping down on the couch next to Buffy and looking brightly around the room. And right through Xander as if he were air.
"Probably not," Willow said. "Anya, this is Sophie, Buffy's friend from work, and Richard, Xander's friend."
"Hi," Sophie wiggled her fingers. "I'm not allowed to gamble anyway. Not even with chips. My mom thinks it could start an addiction."
"Richard." Anya's eyes moved with interest over the handsome guy sitting next to Xander. "I think I've heard Harris mention you." She stood and went over to take Richard's hand, not sparing a glance for Xander. "Pleased to meet you," she said, her voice lowering and eyes sending a seductive message.
"And you're...Anna?" he asked, returning the smoldering eye contact and the lingering hand clasp. "Xander never mentioned you," he added with a flirty smile and an emphasis on the 'you'.
"Reeaaally," she drawled. "Why doesn't that surprise me? I was only his girlfriend for two of the longest years of my life!"
Richard dropped her hand at the word 'girlfriend'. "Oh! Sorry man, I didn't realize...." He shot an apologetic look at Xander, who was bristling like a junkyard dog.
"Not an issue. She's a free agent now. I'm only an ex," Xander said in a clipped tone. "Flirt away." He stood and stalked off toward the kitchen. Spike chuckled as he passed and Xander turned on him. "Shut up, Evil Dead," he hissed.
"What? I didn't say anything."
Willow, with a quick squeeze of Tara's hand, jumped up to follow Xander out of the room. She too cast an evil eye at smirking Spike as she passed.
"Hey Buffy," Tara said loudly, attempting to diffuse the tension in the room. "Did you talk to Giles today?"
"Why yes I did, Tara," Buffy replied in a cheerily fake voice. "He called this afternoon. Said 'Happy Birthday' to me and 'hello' to everyone else. He should be in Merrie Olde tying up the details of his uncle's estate for another few weeks."
Anya, meanwhile, had drifted over to Buffy's stack of presents and was eyeing them as if weighing and measuring the contents. "He can stay as long as he likes as far as I'm concerned," she remarked. "Uh, not that I don't like Giles," she hastened to add. "But I'm perfectly capable of running the shop without his guidance as I continue to tell him every single day when he phones to check in on me as if I were an incompetent toddler."
"I'm sure he trusts your judgment, Anya, or he wouldn't have left you in charge," Tara soothed. "It's just not easy for him to let go, you know."
"I bet Giles will bring back presents," Dawn said. "English souvenirs or whatever. God, I hope he doesn't give me something stupid like a Big Ben paperweight or something. Or that crappy toffee that sticks to your teeth."
"Hey, don't knock the toffee," Buffy scolded. "I love that stuff."
"Yeah. Well, you love anything right now and you're going to end up as big as a house if you don't watch out," Dawn snarked back.
"Do you know that refined sugar will not only rot your teeth but it's chock full of chemicals that actually interfere with your brain patterns?" Sophie added helpfully.
"I did not know that," Buffy said, smiling harder than ever.
"You know, Dawnie," Tara said gently. "Maybe it's time to break out the games."
"I'm up for Monopoly," Anya put in. "That's the one with the money, right?"
Richard nervously rose and looked imploringly at Buffy. "Um. Should I...? I mean is Xander pissed off? Should I go talk to him?"
"He'll be fine," Buffy assured, also rising. She touched Richard's arm. "Why don't you help Dawn set up the card table so we can play."
"Okay," the young man amiably agreed.
"I'm stepping out for a smoke," Spike announced to the room in general and putting his untouched plate aside, he swept from the room.
Buffy sighed, watching his black clad back vanish out the front door. He was so obviously pissed about the other night for which she still had not apologized, but there were party guests to be seen to and she didn't have time to deal with Spikiness right now.
"Anya, you can set up the board and be the banker," she commanded. "Sophie, if you could help me pull up some chairs, that would be helpful."
********
"I can't believe I'm defending Anya of all people," Willow said, "But Xander, you can't blame her for being upset."
"You're taking her side?" Xander's voice rose. His arms were crossed defensively and he leaned against the counter as Willow rested a placating hand on his arm.
"No. Not taking sides. But I do see both sides of it. You've both told me more than I ever wanted to know about your personal lives, and I think I understand what Anya is feeling right now."
"You are! You're taking her side! Damn, sisterhood."
"Cut it out. You know, men say they don't understand how women's minds work but then won't shut up for a second to hear what we're telling them! Listen and learn! You really insulted Anya when you basically told her that she turned you off."
"What?! I never said anything like...."
"You told her that her demon self was unacceptable and that it creeped you out. Well, Xander, that demon was who she was for over a thousand years."
"But she's human now. She's good. The demon is gone."
"Maybe not so much gone as assimilated into her human persona." Willow looked up at him with earnest eyes. "I'm not judging, believe me! I just want you two to understand each other so you can decide where this relationship goes next. If you can't deal with everything Anya is, maybe you really don't want to call her. But if you still care, you'd better make a move quick or the window of opportunity is gonna slam down on your fingers."
"Well, thanks for the advice, Dr. Will," Xander dripped sarcasm with a side of snide.
"Hey, I just dish it," Willow said lightly, backing off and raising her hands in surrender. "Whether you want to eat it or not is up to you, and boy, that did not come out the way it sounded in my head."
Despite himself, Xander cracked a smile.
"Come on. Let's go have some fun for Buffy's sake, okay?" Willow nudged his shoulder.
"Have fun. Right. Easy for you to say. You already made up with your girlfriend," he pouted as he passed glasses from the cupboard to Willow, who ladled punch into them.
*********
The front door opened sending a beam of light into the darkness and startling Spike into stumbling backward and almost falling off the step into the yard.
"Spike, what are you doing," Buffy spoke in the tone she usually reserved for idiot fledgling vamps. "Are you ... Were you poking around in my mailbox?"
"No!" He took a defensive stance, fingers fumbling in his pockets for lighter and smokes. "No. I was just ... out for a smoke. Why? What are YOU doing out here?"
"It's my yard," Buffy reminded him. "Besides, Dawn wants you in there for the games portion of our cruise." She took another step forward and looked suspiciously from Spike's face to the mailbox. Face. Mailbox. Face. His eyes flicked nervously away from hers. Hmmm.
"You WERE messing with my mail!" She stormed over to the box and flipped it open. "What? Are you still pissed about me hitting you the other night? Maybe stuffed a dead cat in there or...." Her voice trailed off as she withdrew a virgin white envelope from the box.
She stared uncomprehendingly at the thick envelope in her hand then her eyes slowly rose to his. Her mouth opened but no words came.
Spike lifted his chin defiantly. "So now you know, don't you," was all he said.
Buffy looked back to the envelope, licking her suddenly dry lips and shaking her head. "How? Why?"
"Think that'd be bloody obvious by now. I've told you I love you a dozen times already. You know I'm mad about you, and a man takes care of his woman any way he can."
" 'His woman'? Spike," she waved the hand with the envelope crushed in it. "I am not your 'woman' or 'girlfriend' or 'lover'. I'm not anything to you...."
"Oh really? That's not the way it felt when you were riding me like you planned to win the whole Triple Crown in one go." He took a step forward, dark brows knitted in a menacing scowl.
"Where did you get it?" she continued, only a deep blush betraying the fact that his words had hit home. "Hold up a bank? Threaten more convenience store clerks?"
Spike paused a beat then said through gritted teeth. "No, I did not."
"Well you certainly didn't find a job or come into an unexpected inheritance," Buffy chided. "How did you get the money, Spike? I want to know what crimes I've been an accomplice to."
"I sold some stuff," he hedged. "But I'll have you know I didn't do anything you could say was illegal."
"Sold stuff? You don't own anything!"
"Didn't say it was my stuff now did I?"
"So you stole...."
"Liberated from some very dusty vamps who had no more need of their possessions. And you remember Clem's pawnshop where I got the rings? He gave me fair value for my merchandise."
"This.... This...." Buffy went back to shaking her head and gazing at the plump envelope in her grasp. "This is so not good. Spike, you know I can't take this money."
"Why not? You were perfectly happy to accept a tax free gift when you thought it was sodding Watcher delivering it."
"That was different. Giles is like a father to me. And any money that came from him would be legitimate."
"So you don't want to soil your hands on my money?" Spike snapped. "Fine. Fucking give it me and I'll go. Figure out for yourself how you're going to pay the gas bill or make a house payment or feed your scrawny self." He made a snatch at the envelope.
For second they each clutched half of it, their hands almost touching. Their furious eyes met and dueled. Buffy broke first, releasing both the envelope and her gaze.
"I'm sorry," she said simply. "I know you probably hoped I'd be falling all over myself in gratitude and swooning into your arms or something, but that's not going to happen. I don't love you back, Spike. It's never going to happen."
He tilted his head trying to catch her gaze again. "Why, Buffy? Why can't you just let yourself go? I could be so good for you. Would give you anything you wanted. I know you feel ... something for me. I was right there with you, remember, and I know it was more than sex."
She locked eyes with him at last and spoke firmly. "Whatever it was, it wasn't love. It couldn't be. You have no soul." She turned, walked into the house and closed the door.
To be continued.....
Last chapter: Spike thought he had Buffy talked into a date but ultimately only had her fist in his face. This chapter: Buffy's birthday sans vengeance curse or demon in the wall. Other things happen instead.
"Happy Birthday dear Buffeee, Happy Birthday to you," warbled the off-key Scooby chorus.
Buffy directed a sunny smile at the assembled group before leaning in to blow out her candles. The smile was getting to be more of an effort as the evening wore on. It was tiring pretending to be jolly. She wondered how mall Santas managed.
Since discovering that Warren and his cronies were responsible for Katrina's death, Buffy was no longer able to overlook their presence in Sunnydale. But they were harder to find than she'd anticipated. She hadn't seen the black van since the day she'd been invisibilized, and the worst part was that Buffy didn't know exactly what to do with the Nerd Trio if she found them. Her job description didn't include hunting and killing dangerous humans - only demons.
Lately, the distinction between what was 'good' or 'bad' Slayer behavior felt pretty murky. It gave Buffy a headache if she thought too hard about her 'mission' and all it connoted ... especially with Spike, the vampire without a soul, added into the mix. All demons inherently evil, right? Spike was just a serial killer imprisoned by a computer chip, right? If she believed anything other than that, she would begin to have doubts about every vampire she dusted, every demon she killed.
But then ... there was Spike. Helping out when he could have organized chaos and mayhem. Fighting alongside the gang when he could have been sending minions to destroy them. And loving Buffy fiercely when he should have been plotting her death. Or maybe he was still hatching some long- term sinister plan and everything that came from his mouth was a lie.
Buffy sighed, sick to death of doubt and confusion.
"You all right, Buffy," Willow asked, concern puckering her forehead. "Are you getting tired? 'Cause we could make it an early night...."
"No!" Dawn cried in distress. "We haven't even started the games yet!" She turned to Buffy. "We're having games; Monopoly, Risk, cards. It'll be a lot of fun. You can't be tired. I don't want everyone to go."
"Of course not," Buffy agreed heartily. "I'm all about the partying. I'm not an invalid, Willow, just a little pregnant. I'll be fine."
"Good!" Dawn said. "Here. Have some cake." She thrust a loaded plate at her sister.
Buffy took fork in hand and began dutifully eating cake, then because it was really good and gooey and rich and chocolatey, she gobbled it down in earnest. When she looked up again, licking frosting from her lips and dabbing at her chin with a napkin, he was there.
Lounging in the living room doorway, shoulder to the wall, Spike had a paper bag clutched in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
"Spike!" Dawn squealed right next to Buffy's ear. "You came!"
"You told me to," he reminded, ignoring the birthday girl and directing all of his attention toward Dawn, who jumped off the couch and went to take the bag from him.
"What's this? Birthday present?" she asked.
"No. Booze," he answered caustically. "Thought I might need it to see me through this little shindig."
Dawn just rolled her eyes at the insult. "You can't smoke in here, you know. Baby, remember?"
Spike didn't argue. He removed the fag from his mouth and crushed it on the bottom of his boot, then flicked the stub into a potted plant. "Better?"
"Much. Hey, what happened to your face? Nasty, horny demon?"
"Mm. Something like that," he said, rubbing thoughtfully at the abraded skin of his cheek. Buffy turned her attention back to her plate and began intently pressing her fork against the crumbs that still lingered there.
"I'll get you some cake," Dawn continued, pulling Spike into the room by the arm and shoving him toward a chair.
Willow and Tara looked up from their giddy flirting just long enough to acknowledge his presence, while Xander shot him a generic glare from across the room then resumed conversation with his work buddy, Richard.
"Hi. Are you a friend of Buffy's?" asked the girl perched on the edge of her chair near Spike. She politely held out a hand, which he didn't take. "I'm Sophie. I work with Buffy at the Doublemeat Palace. Not forever though. I'm taking night classes at the Beauty Academy. I want to be the best cosmetologist in the world. Of course my mom is worried about all the chemical fumes because I'm sensitive to a lot of things, like ammonia and bleach and all petro-chemicals. And she may make me quit beauty school soon because she doesn't think it's safe for me. But I love it and I told her that all the grease and bacteria at DP can't be too good for me either. Now I think she might talk to my manager at work about the conditions there and I might have to look for another job so I can afford to keep on going to the Beauty Academy, which I love."
"Hm." Spike turned away from her brilliant smile and hollered toward the kitchen. "Dawn? How 'bout that cake? And pour me a glass of whiskey while you're at it."
The doorbell rang and Dawn ran from the kitchen to let in the next guest.
Conversation stilled when Anya entered the room. Willow, Tara and Buffy flicked glances at Xander, who was frozen like an agoraphobic in a spotlight. Ignoring him, Anya went straight to Buffy and handed her a brightly wrapped package.
"Since it's customary to show your appreciation of your friends on their natal anniversary with a well-chosen and preferably expensive gift, I have purchased a lovely mantel clock for you which I'm sure will give you many 'hours' of pleasure and use," she said with a wide smile. "And I'll bet it's more expensive than Willow's gift, which she probably bought jointly with Tara, proving that I care more."
"Oh. Uh. Thanks," Buffy said, accepting the gift.
"Aren't you going to open it?"
"Wait!" Dawn shrieked, tearing into the room with Spike's cake in hand. "We're not opening presents yet. Everybody always leaves after presents. We have to play games first!" She handed the cake plate to Spike, who reluctantly took it.
"Where's my drink?"
"Get your own. I'm not a barmaid!" Dawn scowled at him.
"Will there be gambling involved in the games?" Anya asked, dropping down on the couch next to Buffy and looking brightly around the room. And right through Xander as if he were air.
"Probably not," Willow said. "Anya, this is Sophie, Buffy's friend from work, and Richard, Xander's friend."
"Hi," Sophie wiggled her fingers. "I'm not allowed to gamble anyway. Not even with chips. My mom thinks it could start an addiction."
"Richard." Anya's eyes moved with interest over the handsome guy sitting next to Xander. "I think I've heard Harris mention you." She stood and went over to take Richard's hand, not sparing a glance for Xander. "Pleased to meet you," she said, her voice lowering and eyes sending a seductive message.
"And you're...Anna?" he asked, returning the smoldering eye contact and the lingering hand clasp. "Xander never mentioned you," he added with a flirty smile and an emphasis on the 'you'.
"Reeaaally," she drawled. "Why doesn't that surprise me? I was only his girlfriend for two of the longest years of my life!"
Richard dropped her hand at the word 'girlfriend'. "Oh! Sorry man, I didn't realize...." He shot an apologetic look at Xander, who was bristling like a junkyard dog.
"Not an issue. She's a free agent now. I'm only an ex," Xander said in a clipped tone. "Flirt away." He stood and stalked off toward the kitchen. Spike chuckled as he passed and Xander turned on him. "Shut up, Evil Dead," he hissed.
"What? I didn't say anything."
Willow, with a quick squeeze of Tara's hand, jumped up to follow Xander out of the room. She too cast an evil eye at smirking Spike as she passed.
"Hey Buffy," Tara said loudly, attempting to diffuse the tension in the room. "Did you talk to Giles today?"
"Why yes I did, Tara," Buffy replied in a cheerily fake voice. "He called this afternoon. Said 'Happy Birthday' to me and 'hello' to everyone else. He should be in Merrie Olde tying up the details of his uncle's estate for another few weeks."
Anya, meanwhile, had drifted over to Buffy's stack of presents and was eyeing them as if weighing and measuring the contents. "He can stay as long as he likes as far as I'm concerned," she remarked. "Uh, not that I don't like Giles," she hastened to add. "But I'm perfectly capable of running the shop without his guidance as I continue to tell him every single day when he phones to check in on me as if I were an incompetent toddler."
"I'm sure he trusts your judgment, Anya, or he wouldn't have left you in charge," Tara soothed. "It's just not easy for him to let go, you know."
"I bet Giles will bring back presents," Dawn said. "English souvenirs or whatever. God, I hope he doesn't give me something stupid like a Big Ben paperweight or something. Or that crappy toffee that sticks to your teeth."
"Hey, don't knock the toffee," Buffy scolded. "I love that stuff."
"Yeah. Well, you love anything right now and you're going to end up as big as a house if you don't watch out," Dawn snarked back.
"Do you know that refined sugar will not only rot your teeth but it's chock full of chemicals that actually interfere with your brain patterns?" Sophie added helpfully.
"I did not know that," Buffy said, smiling harder than ever.
"You know, Dawnie," Tara said gently. "Maybe it's time to break out the games."
"I'm up for Monopoly," Anya put in. "That's the one with the money, right?"
Richard nervously rose and looked imploringly at Buffy. "Um. Should I...? I mean is Xander pissed off? Should I go talk to him?"
"He'll be fine," Buffy assured, also rising. She touched Richard's arm. "Why don't you help Dawn set up the card table so we can play."
"Okay," the young man amiably agreed.
"I'm stepping out for a smoke," Spike announced to the room in general and putting his untouched plate aside, he swept from the room.
Buffy sighed, watching his black clad back vanish out the front door. He was so obviously pissed about the other night for which she still had not apologized, but there were party guests to be seen to and she didn't have time to deal with Spikiness right now.
"Anya, you can set up the board and be the banker," she commanded. "Sophie, if you could help me pull up some chairs, that would be helpful."
********
"I can't believe I'm defending Anya of all people," Willow said, "But Xander, you can't blame her for being upset."
"You're taking her side?" Xander's voice rose. His arms were crossed defensively and he leaned against the counter as Willow rested a placating hand on his arm.
"No. Not taking sides. But I do see both sides of it. You've both told me more than I ever wanted to know about your personal lives, and I think I understand what Anya is feeling right now."
"You are! You're taking her side! Damn, sisterhood."
"Cut it out. You know, men say they don't understand how women's minds work but then won't shut up for a second to hear what we're telling them! Listen and learn! You really insulted Anya when you basically told her that she turned you off."
"What?! I never said anything like...."
"You told her that her demon self was unacceptable and that it creeped you out. Well, Xander, that demon was who she was for over a thousand years."
"But she's human now. She's good. The demon is gone."
"Maybe not so much gone as assimilated into her human persona." Willow looked up at him with earnest eyes. "I'm not judging, believe me! I just want you two to understand each other so you can decide where this relationship goes next. If you can't deal with everything Anya is, maybe you really don't want to call her. But if you still care, you'd better make a move quick or the window of opportunity is gonna slam down on your fingers."
"Well, thanks for the advice, Dr. Will," Xander dripped sarcasm with a side of snide.
"Hey, I just dish it," Willow said lightly, backing off and raising her hands in surrender. "Whether you want to eat it or not is up to you, and boy, that did not come out the way it sounded in my head."
Despite himself, Xander cracked a smile.
"Come on. Let's go have some fun for Buffy's sake, okay?" Willow nudged his shoulder.
"Have fun. Right. Easy for you to say. You already made up with your girlfriend," he pouted as he passed glasses from the cupboard to Willow, who ladled punch into them.
*********
The front door opened sending a beam of light into the darkness and startling Spike into stumbling backward and almost falling off the step into the yard.
"Spike, what are you doing," Buffy spoke in the tone she usually reserved for idiot fledgling vamps. "Are you ... Were you poking around in my mailbox?"
"No!" He took a defensive stance, fingers fumbling in his pockets for lighter and smokes. "No. I was just ... out for a smoke. Why? What are YOU doing out here?"
"It's my yard," Buffy reminded him. "Besides, Dawn wants you in there for the games portion of our cruise." She took another step forward and looked suspiciously from Spike's face to the mailbox. Face. Mailbox. Face. His eyes flicked nervously away from hers. Hmmm.
"You WERE messing with my mail!" She stormed over to the box and flipped it open. "What? Are you still pissed about me hitting you the other night? Maybe stuffed a dead cat in there or...." Her voice trailed off as she withdrew a virgin white envelope from the box.
She stared uncomprehendingly at the thick envelope in her hand then her eyes slowly rose to his. Her mouth opened but no words came.
Spike lifted his chin defiantly. "So now you know, don't you," was all he said.
Buffy looked back to the envelope, licking her suddenly dry lips and shaking her head. "How? Why?"
"Think that'd be bloody obvious by now. I've told you I love you a dozen times already. You know I'm mad about you, and a man takes care of his woman any way he can."
" 'His woman'? Spike," she waved the hand with the envelope crushed in it. "I am not your 'woman' or 'girlfriend' or 'lover'. I'm not anything to you...."
"Oh really? That's not the way it felt when you were riding me like you planned to win the whole Triple Crown in one go." He took a step forward, dark brows knitted in a menacing scowl.
"Where did you get it?" she continued, only a deep blush betraying the fact that his words had hit home. "Hold up a bank? Threaten more convenience store clerks?"
Spike paused a beat then said through gritted teeth. "No, I did not."
"Well you certainly didn't find a job or come into an unexpected inheritance," Buffy chided. "How did you get the money, Spike? I want to know what crimes I've been an accomplice to."
"I sold some stuff," he hedged. "But I'll have you know I didn't do anything you could say was illegal."
"Sold stuff? You don't own anything!"
"Didn't say it was my stuff now did I?"
"So you stole...."
"Liberated from some very dusty vamps who had no more need of their possessions. And you remember Clem's pawnshop where I got the rings? He gave me fair value for my merchandise."
"This.... This...." Buffy went back to shaking her head and gazing at the plump envelope in her grasp. "This is so not good. Spike, you know I can't take this money."
"Why not? You were perfectly happy to accept a tax free gift when you thought it was sodding Watcher delivering it."
"That was different. Giles is like a father to me. And any money that came from him would be legitimate."
"So you don't want to soil your hands on my money?" Spike snapped. "Fine. Fucking give it me and I'll go. Figure out for yourself how you're going to pay the gas bill or make a house payment or feed your scrawny self." He made a snatch at the envelope.
For second they each clutched half of it, their hands almost touching. Their furious eyes met and dueled. Buffy broke first, releasing both the envelope and her gaze.
"I'm sorry," she said simply. "I know you probably hoped I'd be falling all over myself in gratitude and swooning into your arms or something, but that's not going to happen. I don't love you back, Spike. It's never going to happen."
He tilted his head trying to catch her gaze again. "Why, Buffy? Why can't you just let yourself go? I could be so good for you. Would give you anything you wanted. I know you feel ... something for me. I was right there with you, remember, and I know it was more than sex."
She locked eyes with him at last and spoke firmly. "Whatever it was, it wasn't love. It couldn't be. You have no soul." She turned, walked into the house and closed the door.
To be continued.....