Putting the Question
By Melissa(dettiot@yahoo.com)
Disclaimer: Joss, ME, and Fox owns them all. I'm just having some fun with them.
Rating: PG-13 for a few bad words.
Spoilers: Everything up through Angel 5x08, Destiny. Nothing after that--'cause spoiler-free's the way to be!
Summary: Set a year in the future from the events of Destiny, let's find out why Spike's still in L.A., making friends and building a new life for himself.
Putting the Question
Chapter 6
It wasn't until mid-morning of the next day that Spike's doubts started pummeling him. At first, he had managed to keep his thoughts off that pivotal conversation with Buffy. He had even managed to finally finish the translation he'd been struggling with, and had presented it to Wes and received a bit of praise for his work. He had been coming back from Wes' office, prepared to work on the next order of business, when he caught a glimpse of Buffy as he walked past Angel's office.
He didn't go inside; they had said their goodbyes last night, and really, what else was there to say? He had admitted that he believed she loved him, and she knew that he didn't want a relationship with her. They had parted as friends. There was nothing more to say.
His heart seemed to disagree with that assessment, and provided several choices as to what he could say. 'I love you.' 'I'm in love with you.' 'I want to be with you for as long as I can.'
He shook his head in frustration, nearly stomping his way back to his office. He made himself work on the most detail-oriented task in his inbox--an inventory of demons known to have frequented the Los Angeles area in the last six months, and their security risk--to keep his mind from wandering. Yet he still kept getting flashes of things. Like Buffy's eyes, when she was waiting for his confession. And her hands, playing with the coffee cup. The way her back arched as she executed a flip. The way her lips curved up into a smile, a real smile where her eyes lit up with happiness.
Spike groaned and leaned back in his chair. Before he could do anything else, a knock sounded on his door. Hoping for once that his karma was giving him a break, he called out, "Come in."
Gunn poked his head around the door. "Hey. Angel wants to take all of us, including a certain Slayer, out to lunch. You in?"
Spike shook his head, and tried to adopt a distracted manner. "No, I'm buried with work since I had to take all that time to prep for the ritual last night."
Gunn nodded slowly, and then said, "You're avoiding her again."
Spike looked up at Gunn. "No, I'm not avoiding her. We said our goodbyes last night, so there's really nothing more to say."
"Uh-huh," Gunn said, his voice skeptical. He stepped into the room, and closed the door. "You want to try that again?"
"Guess you're not buying it, huh?" Spike conceded.
"Not in the least," Gunn said. He crossed over and picked up the phone, and then said, "Yeah, Angel, Spike can't make it, and actually, I'm gonna stay and talk to him about an upcoming project I need some assistance on. Give the Slayer my regards."
He dropped the phone back on the cradle, took off his suit jacket and laid it on the sofa, then sat down, resting his elbows on his knees. "You ever know that Fred and I dated?"
Spike moved the stack of papers out of his lap and dropped them on the side table. "No, I didn't. Although I wondered what was going on between you two during the meeting yesterday."
"Thought you'd have picked up on that," Gunn said. He sighed. "We went out for about a year, I guess. And at first, it was great. Like something out of a movie. We were like two kids. But I had lived on the streets, and Fred had spent five years in Pylea. We had both grown up fast, so when we got involved, it was like some great first love. We were so disgusting together, that Cordelia once said if she was a diabetic, she'd go into sugar shock if we were around." Gunn smiled nostalgically.
"I'm guessing things didn't turn out so well?" Spike questioned, propping his feet up on the coffee table.
"Nope," Gunn said. "We found out that a professor that Fred had idolized had been the one who opened the portal that sent her to Pylea. She wanted revenge, naturally, but I didn't want her to do it. I thought that it would break something in her, to take that kind of action. But she went ahead, and she was set to take that step. She had him open a portal, and was all ready to make him jump. And I stepped in, broke the guy's neck, and tossed him in."
"That was the end?" Spike asked in concern.
"We'd been having problems anyway," Gunn said. "But that put the proverbial nail in the coffin, if you'll excuse the pun." He leaned back on the sofa. "So you wanna tell me what happened last night? When exactly did you say these goodbyes?"
Spike slouched down deeper into the cushions of his chair. "She was waiting for me when I got back here last night. She asked me to go talk with her somewhere, and said if I did, she'd let me off the hook today. So we went to that place around the corner, and we talked some." He paused, and then went ahead and said it. "I told her that I believed her."
"Believed what?" Gunn asked.
"That she loves me."
Gunn sat up with a start. "What? Why the hell aren't you dancing for joy? Or, for that matter, dancing on the mattress? I thought that was what you wanted."
"That was what I wanted once! Not now!" Spike said angrily, before he got up and began pacing around the room. "If she had said that to me two years ago, a year ago, I would have thought I'd dust from the happiness. To finally know that she was mine, after all those years of wanting her, loving her . . . " He paused, and imagined how things might have turned out if things had worked out that way. Who knows where he'd be now? With Buffy, hopefully, but there were no guarantees. One of them, both of them, could be dead now. They could have broken up just as badly as they did before. But the idea that they could have been together still, happy, in love . . .
It was a sweet thought. Spike wrenched his mind from such temptation and resumed pacing. "I've worked too hard to put myself together this last year. I'm not about to throw that away by falling in love with her again, or admitting that I love her romantically. I do love her, but I want to love her like a sister."
Gunn leveled him with a look. "But you don't."
Spike shook his head in anger. "No, I don't. I do love her, and not in a sisterly way. Not the way I loved Dawn."
"So what do you feel, then?"
Spike slumped back into his chair. "I admire her and respect her. I enjoy talking with her. We've got such a history between us that we banter just as well as we fight together. I think she's one of the most beautiful people, inside and out, that I've ever encountered, and that's because of her flaws. They make her beautiful."
Gunn nodded. "So, all in all, you love her like a friend."
"I kissed her last night." Before Gunn could say anything, he rushed ahead. "It was on the cheek. She had just hugged me, and it seemed like the thing to do. And it was nice, you know. I . . . I feel like I lead her on, when I didn't know my own feelings." He laughed bitterly. "Looks like the tables have been turned a bit."
"So, you love her like a friend, but you're attracted to her, right?" Spike didn't reply, only nodded. "Okay," Gunn said.
Silence followed Gunn's words, and Spike closed his eyes, trying to unravel what this all meant. What if . . . what if he considered it? Told her he'd follow her once again, be willing to take on the challenges? What would happen? Would there be anything of him left at the end? Or would it end up, like he once predicted, with nothing of him left, and only her in a dead shell?
Gunn seemed to have been thinking in the interim, and suddenly said, "You know what I've realized about my relationship with Fred?" He didn't wait for Spike's answer before continuing. "I think that I didn't really love her. I was in love with her, I think. But I was also in love with the kind of person I was when I was with her."
"Sounds a bit muddled, mate," Spike noted.
Gunn shrugged. "Whoever said love was clear-cut? The best thing I can offer is something I read not too long ago. It was some discussion of divorce proceedings in a clan of Kantar-Llysten demons. The case hinged on the semantic difference between 'I love you' and 'I'm in love with you.' The findings of the court stated, in nice, plain language that the difference was this: 'I'm in love with you' indicates the emotional state of the speaker, how they feel about the other party and how they relate to their mate. 'I love you' indicates something that the speaker saw in the other individual."
Spike opened his eyes, and stared at Gunn. "'I love you' is unselfish, while 'I'm in love with you' is selfish?"
Gunn shrugged. "That's one way to look at it. More like you say 'I love you' without expecting anything in return, but that's not the case with 'I'm in love with you.'" Gunn assessed Spike. "You look like you've got some thinking to do. I'll leave you to it, then," he said, moving towards the door.
Spike recovered his wits enough to realize what Gunn was saying, and quickly said, "Wait, Gunn--"
The other man paused, halfway out the door. Spike looked at him, realizing that this man, so different from him, had become the only male friend he'd ever had. He almost said that, but halted his words and merely said, "Thanks, Charles," with a nod of his head.
Gunn smiled. "Just doing my part for romance," he said with a wink, before pulling the door shut behind him.
At the word 'romance,' Spike's brain froze up. Romance . . . was that what he wanted with Buffy? All his protests aside, did he want them to be a couple? He had been so focused on resisting her that he had made himself try not to think of the alternative.
'And why is that?' he thought to himself. 'I spent so much time insisting that I was over her. Was I just trying to tell myself that?'
Spike stood and once again began pacing around the room. He tried to be reasonable and consider things from different angles. Buffy loved him. She'd seemed more hopeful about her future than he'd ever seen her. She'd taken his rebuff well, and seemed willing to be friends with him if that was all he was going to offer her. All in all, it seemed like Buffy had finally finished the long process of growing up. She was baked, to use that stupid metaphor.
'Whereas you are half-baked if you're considering what I think you're considering,' he thought to himself. He knew that if he went to Buffy and asked her if it was too late, she'd say it wasn't. That they could have a relationship, and it'd be talks and laughs and sex. For a while. But what would happen if he disagreed with her? Or made her mad? Would he be left all alone when she finally left him?
He had spent a lot of time considering his past in the last year. Going over his decisions, his choices. It seemed that his life was lived reacting instead of acting. Poor Spike, always so emotional and sensitive, no matter how hard he worked to push most of his feelings deep down. The feelings just came out in different ways. In his love of the fight. In the obsessiveness of his love. In his wit and in his conversation. The feelings were all there. The time he had spent without form had forced him to start considering things. Looking at his actions, and seeing how another course might have yielded better results. This sort of pondering came more easily with his soul, but he'd never had the time in Sunnydale to work these things out for himself. He was just starting when the First made its last push.
He knew that he had changed in the last year. Had grown a bit more reflective, a bit more cautious. Tried to pause in non-fighting situations to assess the different outcomes. There was nothing wrong with that, was there? In a fight, he had decades of experience to carry him through any tight spots. But in the rest of his life, he really only had two years of knowledge to help him make choices. Was it wrong that he chose to hesitate instead of act?
Spike felt a pain in his hand. He looked down in confusion, and saw that his hand was half-buried in the sheetrock. In the midst of his pacing, he'd slammed his fist into the wall.
"Ouch," he said, frowning in confusion. Then, he felt his anger rise. What the hell was he doing? Who the hell had he become, that he'd sit around and brood and worry about what-ifs, when he could be hashing it out with Buffy right now?
With a start, he realized that he had avoided talking to her about what she would want out of a relationship, because he feared he'd accept her terms without question and go along. And inevitably, such acceptance would lead to becoming her faithful lackey once again. But maybe, just maybe, he didn't have to follow that pattern. Maybe there was a chance he'd be able to be her equal in this. He had painfully learned how to be his own man this last year. That was what Buffy needed: a man who didn't need her to complete him, but needed her to complement him.
He yanked his hand from the wall with a grimace, and ignored the blood and dust on his hand. Throwing open the door of his office, he stalked down the hall. His expression must have been truly threatening, considering the number of people who took one look at him and then stepped out of his way. Spike didn't care, though; his goal was clear. Find Buffy, talk to her, find out if she was willing to take a chance and go slow with him. Because he wanted to do this right, this time.
He checked Angel's office and found it empty, as he expected. Spying Harmony out of the corner of his eye, he made his way over to her desk.
"Harm, where did Angel take Buffy for lunch?"
She shrugged. "Dunno. They were doing lunch with Wes and Fred, and then Angel was going to take her over to Fred's to pick up her bags and then, off to the airport."
"The airport?" Spike said, checking his watch and realizing it was 2:30. Buffy had said she'd be leaving for LAX around 4. Did he have enough time?
Harmony was prattling away, but her words suddenly caught his attention. " . . . she seemed so sad, which is funny, since Angel isn't making her sad, you know?"
"What?" he said. "What do you mean, Angel isn't making her sad?"
"Duh, Buffy was so melodramatic in high school about Angel. 'Oh, I love him so much, but he's bad. Oh, he's killing people! Oh, I can't be with him, even though I love him.' So boring," Harmony said with an eye roll. "But now, it's like she's so incredibly sad, she can't even talk about it."
Spike looked at her in confusion. "Why do you think she's sad? How can you tell?"
"You just have to look at her, dumbass. She's sad because the man she's in love with is a dumbass. Gee, how coincidental that you, and the guy she loves, are dumbasses. Wait a minute!" Harmony said with a grin. "*You're* the dumbass she's in love with."
"Okay, okay, I know. Does Angel have his cell phone?"
Harmony raised an eyebrow. "Angel? Cell phone? We are talking about the vampire who last week said he missed telegrams?"
Spike groaned, and quickly grabbed Harmony's phone, punching in the number to Angel's cell phone. It rang several times, and he was nearly ready to hang up and try Fred's phone, when he heard a click and Angel's voice.
"Um, hello?"
"Angel, it's Spike. Don't let anyone know you're talking to me. Are you still eating lunch?"
He could sense that Angel was being guarded, and for more than the obvious reason, when he spoke. "Yes. We're just about done right now."
"All right. Tell me where you are, and then stall. Make the Slayer order dessert--she shouldn't be worrying about calories and grams of saturated fat. I need to talk to her before she leaves."
"Are you sure about this?"
"I've never been more sure," Spike said. "And don't even think about sending me to the wrong restaurant. I know what you tried to do to Buffy last night, and you're not gonna manipulate us out of seeing each other now."
Angel sighed heavily. "I know. She's given me hell for that. I can understand now why you didn't stake me, if this was what you'd have had to suffer through afterwards. We're at Limoncello--it's about six blocks down. You know how to get here?"
"Yeah--there's a manhole right by the back door of the place, isn't there?"
"Yes," Angel said. "Talk to you later."
Spike tossed the phone down, and said, "See you, Harmony," dropping a kiss on her cheek.
"Don't be a dumbass!" she called after him.
***
Spike moved slowly into the restaurant, looking for Buffy. He finally spied her, sitting at a table tucked away into a corner. She was alone, and finishing off what looked to be a massive chocolate dessert of some kind.
He paused, and just looked at her for a moment. God, she was beautiful. She had been all he wanted for so long that sometimes he couldn't help but wonder at how she was so many things, all rolled up in one package. And he loved all of those parts of her. Even the ones that annoyed or infuriated him or even scared him a little. She was Buffy. And he loved her. And he was tired of denying that. Tired of resisting his feelings and telling himself that he needed to stay remote and alone. After a year of hard struggle, he knew who he was. He was a man. And he was in love.
He casually strolled over, and said, "Dining all alone?"
She looked up at him, and he could see her eyes widen in surprise. "Spike? What are you doing here?"
He slid into a chair next to her, and said, "I was in the neighborhood. Where did everyone else go?"
Buffy stammered a bit. "W-Wes and Fred went back to the office. They walked. Angel went to get his car so he could take me to the airport."
Spike nodded. "But you've got a bit of time now, haven't you?"
She nodded, staring at him.
He cleared his throat, and tried to swallow the lump that was forming. "I know we said our goodbyes yesterday, but I was thinking . . . "
"Yes?" Buffy said, her voice confused and cautious.
Spike reached over, and took one of her hands. "Well, you see, I was thinking about what you've said to me while you've been in L.A. About how you love me. I don't know how I don't remember what happened when we were in the Hellmouth, but your love came as a bit of a shock to me. I know I've said I love you, but I think we both know that I didn't mean it in the same way you meant it."
Buffy ducked her head, and said "Yes," in a small voice.
Spike continued. "Like I said, I was thinking earlier today. Going back and forth on this issue. Because my love for you was changing a bit. Getting a bit . . . deeper. I kept telling myself that I couldn't throw away all the struggle I've gone through, to become my own man and stand on my own. I thought that if I admitted I love you, the same way you love me, that I'd be back to where I was before. But then, I realized something else."
Buffy was still looking down at the table, at the remains of her dessert. Her hand in his was like ice. She was so still, he wondered if she was still breathing. If he had ever needed a sign of how much she wanted this, him, here it was. And he didn't want her to wait any longer to find out his feelings.
"You know what I realized, Buffy?" he asked, using his other hand to tilt her chin up, forcing her to look at him.
She shook her head, the tears in her eyes making them glitter. He smiled at her, and slid his hand from her chin to her cheek, cradling her face.
"I realized I think too much," he said, before he leaned in and kissed her.
Soft warm lips pressed against his own, still for a moment before coming to life under his. He felt her hand in his hair, tugging him closer, heard her small moan before he pulled away from her. A tear had streaked down her cheek, and he wiped it away with his thumb.
"I, I can't believe this," Buffy said, smiling at him. "Oh, God, I love you so much." She leaned in to kiss him again, but then jerked back before making contact. "Are you sure? I mean, really really sure? Because there's lots of things I want if we're involved."
Spike sighed a bit, and dropped his hand from her face. "What kind of things do you want?" he asked, part of him hoping her demands wouldn't be too much for his new self-respect to take.
Buffy pressed her lips together at the change in his body language, but sat up in her chair. "First, I'd like to spend some time dating. Going out to dinner, spending time together, talking. Like normal people."
"Well, we're not exactly normal," he said with a frown.
She nodded. "I know. I want us to go patrolling together, too. I missed fighting with you. I mean, not with you with you, but together . . . oh, you know what I mean," Buffy said in frustration. "I want us to talk, about how we're feeling. I want to walk down the street with you holding your hand. I want to make out with you on that sofa in your office. I want to hear you call me your girlfriend."
"All nice things, pet, but what about what I want?"
She stared at him in confusion. "What, did you think it was only about what I wanted? Do you think I'm going to make the same mistakes twice? I want us to be in a real relationship this time, with all the good and bad stuff that comes with it. I don't want to be all selfish-Buffy. If anything, you're owed a lot of listening time from me. That's what I meant about talking and sharing, you dumbass!"
Spike couldn't help laughing at her words. He could see she was getting angry and frustrated with his laughter, but he couldn't help it. He was so happy he had to laugh. Because she got it. She thought they were equals in this.
And he just tumbled more in love with her than he ever thought he'd be.
"I love you, too," he said through his laughter, before pulling her in for a kiss. She was a bit stiff at first, but softened quickly. He pulled back again, and rested his forehead against hers. "I want all those things, too. I want you to work with me. I want to help you with your schoolwork. I want to overhear you chatting with your mates about how bloody wonderful I am. I want to live with you and argue about who pays the electric bill this month. I want you to complain I'm spending too much time with my friends, but secretly you're happy that I have friends. And I want to kiss you for a solid week."
Buffy sighed a bit, and said, "Everyone's going to think we're crazy."
Spike shook his head. "Nah. They'll say we finally came to our senses."
She giggled a bit, and pulled away, but not without latching onto his hand and holding it tightly. "I guess I don't need to worry about making that plane, huh?"
He sighed. "It's up to you, luv. You may have some things to take care of before you can move willy-nilly. I don't fancy the idea of moving back to the mother country, myself. I like Los Angeles. And if you missed it, I did kinda ask you to move in with me, at least eventually. So what do you say, Slayer? Want to give L.A. a try?"
She leaned forward, resting her chin on her propped-up hand. "Sure. Because you're here." A dazzling smile lit up her face, and she said, "Now, how about we go back to your place, and I make a few calls, and then we get to work on that week of kissing?"
He looked at her for a moment. He wondered if that was giving in to her too much, if this was just the first step down a slippery slope, back towards being love's bitch. Maybe he should insist that she go back to England, break the news, make plans to come back in a few weeks. A long-distance relationship for a few weeks would be taking it slow, and that's what they wanted, right?
But then Buffy lightly slapped his hand, and said, "You're thinking too much. Kiss me."
Spike couldn't help it. He grinned at her, and said, "Yes, ma'am." And they kissed until Angel arrived and interrupted them, only to go right back to kissing as Angel shook his head and left them there.
End, Putting the Question
By Melissa(dettiot@yahoo.com)
Disclaimer: Joss, ME, and Fox owns them all. I'm just having some fun with them.
Rating: PG-13 for a few bad words.
Spoilers: Everything up through Angel 5x08, Destiny. Nothing after that--'cause spoiler-free's the way to be!
Summary: Set a year in the future from the events of Destiny, let's find out why Spike's still in L.A., making friends and building a new life for himself.
Putting the Question
Chapter 6
It wasn't until mid-morning of the next day that Spike's doubts started pummeling him. At first, he had managed to keep his thoughts off that pivotal conversation with Buffy. He had even managed to finally finish the translation he'd been struggling with, and had presented it to Wes and received a bit of praise for his work. He had been coming back from Wes' office, prepared to work on the next order of business, when he caught a glimpse of Buffy as he walked past Angel's office.
He didn't go inside; they had said their goodbyes last night, and really, what else was there to say? He had admitted that he believed she loved him, and she knew that he didn't want a relationship with her. They had parted as friends. There was nothing more to say.
His heart seemed to disagree with that assessment, and provided several choices as to what he could say. 'I love you.' 'I'm in love with you.' 'I want to be with you for as long as I can.'
He shook his head in frustration, nearly stomping his way back to his office. He made himself work on the most detail-oriented task in his inbox--an inventory of demons known to have frequented the Los Angeles area in the last six months, and their security risk--to keep his mind from wandering. Yet he still kept getting flashes of things. Like Buffy's eyes, when she was waiting for his confession. And her hands, playing with the coffee cup. The way her back arched as she executed a flip. The way her lips curved up into a smile, a real smile where her eyes lit up with happiness.
Spike groaned and leaned back in his chair. Before he could do anything else, a knock sounded on his door. Hoping for once that his karma was giving him a break, he called out, "Come in."
Gunn poked his head around the door. "Hey. Angel wants to take all of us, including a certain Slayer, out to lunch. You in?"
Spike shook his head, and tried to adopt a distracted manner. "No, I'm buried with work since I had to take all that time to prep for the ritual last night."
Gunn nodded slowly, and then said, "You're avoiding her again."
Spike looked up at Gunn. "No, I'm not avoiding her. We said our goodbyes last night, so there's really nothing more to say."
"Uh-huh," Gunn said, his voice skeptical. He stepped into the room, and closed the door. "You want to try that again?"
"Guess you're not buying it, huh?" Spike conceded.
"Not in the least," Gunn said. He crossed over and picked up the phone, and then said, "Yeah, Angel, Spike can't make it, and actually, I'm gonna stay and talk to him about an upcoming project I need some assistance on. Give the Slayer my regards."
He dropped the phone back on the cradle, took off his suit jacket and laid it on the sofa, then sat down, resting his elbows on his knees. "You ever know that Fred and I dated?"
Spike moved the stack of papers out of his lap and dropped them on the side table. "No, I didn't. Although I wondered what was going on between you two during the meeting yesterday."
"Thought you'd have picked up on that," Gunn said. He sighed. "We went out for about a year, I guess. And at first, it was great. Like something out of a movie. We were like two kids. But I had lived on the streets, and Fred had spent five years in Pylea. We had both grown up fast, so when we got involved, it was like some great first love. We were so disgusting together, that Cordelia once said if she was a diabetic, she'd go into sugar shock if we were around." Gunn smiled nostalgically.
"I'm guessing things didn't turn out so well?" Spike questioned, propping his feet up on the coffee table.
"Nope," Gunn said. "We found out that a professor that Fred had idolized had been the one who opened the portal that sent her to Pylea. She wanted revenge, naturally, but I didn't want her to do it. I thought that it would break something in her, to take that kind of action. But she went ahead, and she was set to take that step. She had him open a portal, and was all ready to make him jump. And I stepped in, broke the guy's neck, and tossed him in."
"That was the end?" Spike asked in concern.
"We'd been having problems anyway," Gunn said. "But that put the proverbial nail in the coffin, if you'll excuse the pun." He leaned back on the sofa. "So you wanna tell me what happened last night? When exactly did you say these goodbyes?"
Spike slouched down deeper into the cushions of his chair. "She was waiting for me when I got back here last night. She asked me to go talk with her somewhere, and said if I did, she'd let me off the hook today. So we went to that place around the corner, and we talked some." He paused, and then went ahead and said it. "I told her that I believed her."
"Believed what?" Gunn asked.
"That she loves me."
Gunn sat up with a start. "What? Why the hell aren't you dancing for joy? Or, for that matter, dancing on the mattress? I thought that was what you wanted."
"That was what I wanted once! Not now!" Spike said angrily, before he got up and began pacing around the room. "If she had said that to me two years ago, a year ago, I would have thought I'd dust from the happiness. To finally know that she was mine, after all those years of wanting her, loving her . . . " He paused, and imagined how things might have turned out if things had worked out that way. Who knows where he'd be now? With Buffy, hopefully, but there were no guarantees. One of them, both of them, could be dead now. They could have broken up just as badly as they did before. But the idea that they could have been together still, happy, in love . . .
It was a sweet thought. Spike wrenched his mind from such temptation and resumed pacing. "I've worked too hard to put myself together this last year. I'm not about to throw that away by falling in love with her again, or admitting that I love her romantically. I do love her, but I want to love her like a sister."
Gunn leveled him with a look. "But you don't."
Spike shook his head in anger. "No, I don't. I do love her, and not in a sisterly way. Not the way I loved Dawn."
"So what do you feel, then?"
Spike slumped back into his chair. "I admire her and respect her. I enjoy talking with her. We've got such a history between us that we banter just as well as we fight together. I think she's one of the most beautiful people, inside and out, that I've ever encountered, and that's because of her flaws. They make her beautiful."
Gunn nodded. "So, all in all, you love her like a friend."
"I kissed her last night." Before Gunn could say anything, he rushed ahead. "It was on the cheek. She had just hugged me, and it seemed like the thing to do. And it was nice, you know. I . . . I feel like I lead her on, when I didn't know my own feelings." He laughed bitterly. "Looks like the tables have been turned a bit."
"So, you love her like a friend, but you're attracted to her, right?" Spike didn't reply, only nodded. "Okay," Gunn said.
Silence followed Gunn's words, and Spike closed his eyes, trying to unravel what this all meant. What if . . . what if he considered it? Told her he'd follow her once again, be willing to take on the challenges? What would happen? Would there be anything of him left at the end? Or would it end up, like he once predicted, with nothing of him left, and only her in a dead shell?
Gunn seemed to have been thinking in the interim, and suddenly said, "You know what I've realized about my relationship with Fred?" He didn't wait for Spike's answer before continuing. "I think that I didn't really love her. I was in love with her, I think. But I was also in love with the kind of person I was when I was with her."
"Sounds a bit muddled, mate," Spike noted.
Gunn shrugged. "Whoever said love was clear-cut? The best thing I can offer is something I read not too long ago. It was some discussion of divorce proceedings in a clan of Kantar-Llysten demons. The case hinged on the semantic difference between 'I love you' and 'I'm in love with you.' The findings of the court stated, in nice, plain language that the difference was this: 'I'm in love with you' indicates the emotional state of the speaker, how they feel about the other party and how they relate to their mate. 'I love you' indicates something that the speaker saw in the other individual."
Spike opened his eyes, and stared at Gunn. "'I love you' is unselfish, while 'I'm in love with you' is selfish?"
Gunn shrugged. "That's one way to look at it. More like you say 'I love you' without expecting anything in return, but that's not the case with 'I'm in love with you.'" Gunn assessed Spike. "You look like you've got some thinking to do. I'll leave you to it, then," he said, moving towards the door.
Spike recovered his wits enough to realize what Gunn was saying, and quickly said, "Wait, Gunn--"
The other man paused, halfway out the door. Spike looked at him, realizing that this man, so different from him, had become the only male friend he'd ever had. He almost said that, but halted his words and merely said, "Thanks, Charles," with a nod of his head.
Gunn smiled. "Just doing my part for romance," he said with a wink, before pulling the door shut behind him.
At the word 'romance,' Spike's brain froze up. Romance . . . was that what he wanted with Buffy? All his protests aside, did he want them to be a couple? He had been so focused on resisting her that he had made himself try not to think of the alternative.
'And why is that?' he thought to himself. 'I spent so much time insisting that I was over her. Was I just trying to tell myself that?'
Spike stood and once again began pacing around the room. He tried to be reasonable and consider things from different angles. Buffy loved him. She'd seemed more hopeful about her future than he'd ever seen her. She'd taken his rebuff well, and seemed willing to be friends with him if that was all he was going to offer her. All in all, it seemed like Buffy had finally finished the long process of growing up. She was baked, to use that stupid metaphor.
'Whereas you are half-baked if you're considering what I think you're considering,' he thought to himself. He knew that if he went to Buffy and asked her if it was too late, she'd say it wasn't. That they could have a relationship, and it'd be talks and laughs and sex. For a while. But what would happen if he disagreed with her? Or made her mad? Would he be left all alone when she finally left him?
He had spent a lot of time considering his past in the last year. Going over his decisions, his choices. It seemed that his life was lived reacting instead of acting. Poor Spike, always so emotional and sensitive, no matter how hard he worked to push most of his feelings deep down. The feelings just came out in different ways. In his love of the fight. In the obsessiveness of his love. In his wit and in his conversation. The feelings were all there. The time he had spent without form had forced him to start considering things. Looking at his actions, and seeing how another course might have yielded better results. This sort of pondering came more easily with his soul, but he'd never had the time in Sunnydale to work these things out for himself. He was just starting when the First made its last push.
He knew that he had changed in the last year. Had grown a bit more reflective, a bit more cautious. Tried to pause in non-fighting situations to assess the different outcomes. There was nothing wrong with that, was there? In a fight, he had decades of experience to carry him through any tight spots. But in the rest of his life, he really only had two years of knowledge to help him make choices. Was it wrong that he chose to hesitate instead of act?
Spike felt a pain in his hand. He looked down in confusion, and saw that his hand was half-buried in the sheetrock. In the midst of his pacing, he'd slammed his fist into the wall.
"Ouch," he said, frowning in confusion. Then, he felt his anger rise. What the hell was he doing? Who the hell had he become, that he'd sit around and brood and worry about what-ifs, when he could be hashing it out with Buffy right now?
With a start, he realized that he had avoided talking to her about what she would want out of a relationship, because he feared he'd accept her terms without question and go along. And inevitably, such acceptance would lead to becoming her faithful lackey once again. But maybe, just maybe, he didn't have to follow that pattern. Maybe there was a chance he'd be able to be her equal in this. He had painfully learned how to be his own man this last year. That was what Buffy needed: a man who didn't need her to complete him, but needed her to complement him.
He yanked his hand from the wall with a grimace, and ignored the blood and dust on his hand. Throwing open the door of his office, he stalked down the hall. His expression must have been truly threatening, considering the number of people who took one look at him and then stepped out of his way. Spike didn't care, though; his goal was clear. Find Buffy, talk to her, find out if she was willing to take a chance and go slow with him. Because he wanted to do this right, this time.
He checked Angel's office and found it empty, as he expected. Spying Harmony out of the corner of his eye, he made his way over to her desk.
"Harm, where did Angel take Buffy for lunch?"
She shrugged. "Dunno. They were doing lunch with Wes and Fred, and then Angel was going to take her over to Fred's to pick up her bags and then, off to the airport."
"The airport?" Spike said, checking his watch and realizing it was 2:30. Buffy had said she'd be leaving for LAX around 4. Did he have enough time?
Harmony was prattling away, but her words suddenly caught his attention. " . . . she seemed so sad, which is funny, since Angel isn't making her sad, you know?"
"What?" he said. "What do you mean, Angel isn't making her sad?"
"Duh, Buffy was so melodramatic in high school about Angel. 'Oh, I love him so much, but he's bad. Oh, he's killing people! Oh, I can't be with him, even though I love him.' So boring," Harmony said with an eye roll. "But now, it's like she's so incredibly sad, she can't even talk about it."
Spike looked at her in confusion. "Why do you think she's sad? How can you tell?"
"You just have to look at her, dumbass. She's sad because the man she's in love with is a dumbass. Gee, how coincidental that you, and the guy she loves, are dumbasses. Wait a minute!" Harmony said with a grin. "*You're* the dumbass she's in love with."
"Okay, okay, I know. Does Angel have his cell phone?"
Harmony raised an eyebrow. "Angel? Cell phone? We are talking about the vampire who last week said he missed telegrams?"
Spike groaned, and quickly grabbed Harmony's phone, punching in the number to Angel's cell phone. It rang several times, and he was nearly ready to hang up and try Fred's phone, when he heard a click and Angel's voice.
"Um, hello?"
"Angel, it's Spike. Don't let anyone know you're talking to me. Are you still eating lunch?"
He could sense that Angel was being guarded, and for more than the obvious reason, when he spoke. "Yes. We're just about done right now."
"All right. Tell me where you are, and then stall. Make the Slayer order dessert--she shouldn't be worrying about calories and grams of saturated fat. I need to talk to her before she leaves."
"Are you sure about this?"
"I've never been more sure," Spike said. "And don't even think about sending me to the wrong restaurant. I know what you tried to do to Buffy last night, and you're not gonna manipulate us out of seeing each other now."
Angel sighed heavily. "I know. She's given me hell for that. I can understand now why you didn't stake me, if this was what you'd have had to suffer through afterwards. We're at Limoncello--it's about six blocks down. You know how to get here?"
"Yeah--there's a manhole right by the back door of the place, isn't there?"
"Yes," Angel said. "Talk to you later."
Spike tossed the phone down, and said, "See you, Harmony," dropping a kiss on her cheek.
"Don't be a dumbass!" she called after him.
***
Spike moved slowly into the restaurant, looking for Buffy. He finally spied her, sitting at a table tucked away into a corner. She was alone, and finishing off what looked to be a massive chocolate dessert of some kind.
He paused, and just looked at her for a moment. God, she was beautiful. She had been all he wanted for so long that sometimes he couldn't help but wonder at how she was so many things, all rolled up in one package. And he loved all of those parts of her. Even the ones that annoyed or infuriated him or even scared him a little. She was Buffy. And he loved her. And he was tired of denying that. Tired of resisting his feelings and telling himself that he needed to stay remote and alone. After a year of hard struggle, he knew who he was. He was a man. And he was in love.
He casually strolled over, and said, "Dining all alone?"
She looked up at him, and he could see her eyes widen in surprise. "Spike? What are you doing here?"
He slid into a chair next to her, and said, "I was in the neighborhood. Where did everyone else go?"
Buffy stammered a bit. "W-Wes and Fred went back to the office. They walked. Angel went to get his car so he could take me to the airport."
Spike nodded. "But you've got a bit of time now, haven't you?"
She nodded, staring at him.
He cleared his throat, and tried to swallow the lump that was forming. "I know we said our goodbyes yesterday, but I was thinking . . . "
"Yes?" Buffy said, her voice confused and cautious.
Spike reached over, and took one of her hands. "Well, you see, I was thinking about what you've said to me while you've been in L.A. About how you love me. I don't know how I don't remember what happened when we were in the Hellmouth, but your love came as a bit of a shock to me. I know I've said I love you, but I think we both know that I didn't mean it in the same way you meant it."
Buffy ducked her head, and said "Yes," in a small voice.
Spike continued. "Like I said, I was thinking earlier today. Going back and forth on this issue. Because my love for you was changing a bit. Getting a bit . . . deeper. I kept telling myself that I couldn't throw away all the struggle I've gone through, to become my own man and stand on my own. I thought that if I admitted I love you, the same way you love me, that I'd be back to where I was before. But then, I realized something else."
Buffy was still looking down at the table, at the remains of her dessert. Her hand in his was like ice. She was so still, he wondered if she was still breathing. If he had ever needed a sign of how much she wanted this, him, here it was. And he didn't want her to wait any longer to find out his feelings.
"You know what I realized, Buffy?" he asked, using his other hand to tilt her chin up, forcing her to look at him.
She shook her head, the tears in her eyes making them glitter. He smiled at her, and slid his hand from her chin to her cheek, cradling her face.
"I realized I think too much," he said, before he leaned in and kissed her.
Soft warm lips pressed against his own, still for a moment before coming to life under his. He felt her hand in his hair, tugging him closer, heard her small moan before he pulled away from her. A tear had streaked down her cheek, and he wiped it away with his thumb.
"I, I can't believe this," Buffy said, smiling at him. "Oh, God, I love you so much." She leaned in to kiss him again, but then jerked back before making contact. "Are you sure? I mean, really really sure? Because there's lots of things I want if we're involved."
Spike sighed a bit, and dropped his hand from her face. "What kind of things do you want?" he asked, part of him hoping her demands wouldn't be too much for his new self-respect to take.
Buffy pressed her lips together at the change in his body language, but sat up in her chair. "First, I'd like to spend some time dating. Going out to dinner, spending time together, talking. Like normal people."
"Well, we're not exactly normal," he said with a frown.
She nodded. "I know. I want us to go patrolling together, too. I missed fighting with you. I mean, not with you with you, but together . . . oh, you know what I mean," Buffy said in frustration. "I want us to talk, about how we're feeling. I want to walk down the street with you holding your hand. I want to make out with you on that sofa in your office. I want to hear you call me your girlfriend."
"All nice things, pet, but what about what I want?"
She stared at him in confusion. "What, did you think it was only about what I wanted? Do you think I'm going to make the same mistakes twice? I want us to be in a real relationship this time, with all the good and bad stuff that comes with it. I don't want to be all selfish-Buffy. If anything, you're owed a lot of listening time from me. That's what I meant about talking and sharing, you dumbass!"
Spike couldn't help laughing at her words. He could see she was getting angry and frustrated with his laughter, but he couldn't help it. He was so happy he had to laugh. Because she got it. She thought they were equals in this.
And he just tumbled more in love with her than he ever thought he'd be.
"I love you, too," he said through his laughter, before pulling her in for a kiss. She was a bit stiff at first, but softened quickly. He pulled back again, and rested his forehead against hers. "I want all those things, too. I want you to work with me. I want to help you with your schoolwork. I want to overhear you chatting with your mates about how bloody wonderful I am. I want to live with you and argue about who pays the electric bill this month. I want you to complain I'm spending too much time with my friends, but secretly you're happy that I have friends. And I want to kiss you for a solid week."
Buffy sighed a bit, and said, "Everyone's going to think we're crazy."
Spike shook his head. "Nah. They'll say we finally came to our senses."
She giggled a bit, and pulled away, but not without latching onto his hand and holding it tightly. "I guess I don't need to worry about making that plane, huh?"
He sighed. "It's up to you, luv. You may have some things to take care of before you can move willy-nilly. I don't fancy the idea of moving back to the mother country, myself. I like Los Angeles. And if you missed it, I did kinda ask you to move in with me, at least eventually. So what do you say, Slayer? Want to give L.A. a try?"
She leaned forward, resting her chin on her propped-up hand. "Sure. Because you're here." A dazzling smile lit up her face, and she said, "Now, how about we go back to your place, and I make a few calls, and then we get to work on that week of kissing?"
He looked at her for a moment. He wondered if that was giving in to her too much, if this was just the first step down a slippery slope, back towards being love's bitch. Maybe he should insist that she go back to England, break the news, make plans to come back in a few weeks. A long-distance relationship for a few weeks would be taking it slow, and that's what they wanted, right?
But then Buffy lightly slapped his hand, and said, "You're thinking too much. Kiss me."
Spike couldn't help it. He grinned at her, and said, "Yes, ma'am." And they kissed until Angel arrived and interrupted them, only to go right back to kissing as Angel shook his head and left them there.
End, Putting the Question