---------------------------------------------------------------
RETURN
Part 12. Close Bound Enough
Buffy went out to sit on the back porch. It was late afternoon. Spike slept solidly in her bed, and Willow was huddled upstairs, alone and silent. No one had the heart to rouse Xander and Anya from the couch, where they had dropped off, clinging together. Even Dawn, a teenager stuffed with sugar and caffeine, had, astonishingly, gone to her room for an extended nap. Only Giles forced himself to keep awake, working alone over reference books in the dining room. It had been a beautiful, sunny day, in any other circumstances an invitation to walks in the park and carefree shopping. Branches swayed gently in a warm spring breeze, and birds twittered around her mother's feeder. She felt her shoulders relax a little, at last.
It was partly the sunshine that calmed her and partly the memory of Spike asleep in her arms. His head had felt deliciously heavy against her shoulder, and ever so softly, so as not to wake him, she had run her hands over his shoulders and back, just memorizing the feel of him once more. It was heaven. That strange little voice inside her was singing about love again, and now she just let it sing.
After a while, Giles joined her on the steps, holding a mug of very strong, very sweet tea. He opened his mouth to speak, and then suddenly thought better of it. Why shouldn't she have a day or two to rest up, without being burdened with the ill-starred portents he had spent the afternoon tracking down?
"Well! The last few days have been eventful, to say the least," he said instead. "How are you holding up? Tired?"
"Tired, but good. Overwhelmed and confused, but good. I guess we won," she said, smiling at him.
"Yes, we did." He hesitated, and decided not to say 'for now.'
"Everything will be different now," Buffy said a little sadly. "Whatever happens. The way we were is just -- gone; when we put the pieces back together, we'll have something else. Once I would have thought that was awful. Once I just wanted things be like they used to be, but now I -- I can't wait,"
"That could be called growing up, Buffy."
"That's what they keep telling me," she said. She stretched, and they sat in companionable silence for a while. The soporific effects of sun, fresh air, and a metaphysical vitality drain were beginning to tell on them both. "Fighting people is way more tiring than fighting monsters," she complained eventually, stifling a yawn. "I can't even kill anything. There's no resolution. Just the promise of more trouble down the road."
"True. It's the moral ambiguity, I expect. Very wearing on the nerves." He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Not to mention the mystical drain on your strength. The forces unleashed by the convergence of Willow's real power and Warren's artificially enhanced power literally sucked some of the energy out of our world. Not a lot -- we were able to stop it in time, or rather Spike was."
"So everybody's got the post-almost-apocalypse snoozies? And Spike saved the world -- again?" Buffy chuckled. That was so weird. Especially since it sort of kept happening.
"It looks like it, yes; he and his, ah, comrades. There's no telling what the result would have been if the energy drain had gone on. For one thing, we don't know where it went -- which is a bit ominous. Though perhaps Spike and I can look into that later." He didn't really want to tell her that he suspected the answer would not prove encouraging. It was so good to see her smile again, if only for a little while.
"I've gotta say it's strange to hear you say that, Giles!" she laughed.
"It's strange to hear myself say it. Though not as strange as you might think. I did know about the Thisavrizo, as an intriguing legend, not a reality. But the idea is not as outlandish as one would imagine." Giles became quite animated on the topic of his most recent research. "Quite frankly, the trials that must be overcome are so daunting that, as far as I know, the challenge has never even been taken up by a human." He didn't notice Buffy's wince at that. "However, it should have occurred to us that a vampire might succeed, because -- and I think this will surprise you -- Spike is not the first Watcher to be, um, a vampire."
"What!?" Buffy exclaimed, "though may I pause and say I feel like I've been saying that an awful lot lately."
"I know. It seems quite unthinkable. Obviously, it's happened very seldom. But it has happened."
"Well, color me flabbergasted. Would those be all soul-y guys? You know like -- like Spike?" It still felt peculiar to say that. Spike. Soul. Lots of souls. She shook her head.
"I'm actually not quite clear on that point. It seems that the Council of Watchers does not make every resource known to mere field troops who actually face vampires, like myself," he said with undisguised resentment. "However, some of the inhabitants of Spike's head -- so to speak -- literally wrote the books, so I now have access to a bit more information. Indeed, I have access to more than anyone else alive, I suspect. And I use the word 'alive' advisedly, of course."
"'The Worm Turns, or, The Librarian's Revenge'!"
"I must say, the thought of the expression on Quentin Travers' face has been cheering me quite considerably," said Giles happily. "Not that I think we should rush into informing the Council of what's happened, but still."
He looked at her lovely face, her lips curved softly into a smile. "You look happy, Buffy." Despite the exhaustion, despite the desperate emotions of the last few weeks, she seemed almost serene. He couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd seen her look contented. Suddenly it occurred to him to wonder --
Buffy looked away for a moment, and then met his eyes. "It's because Spike came home," she said simply.
"I see." Giles said. Well, it wasn't surprising, was it? As knights in shining armor went, Spike was perhaps an unusual specimen -- especially since he wasn't exactly alive, and his armor was considerably dented, too -- but one could hardly deny that he had proved himself this time. However much one might wish to. "I take it you've found that you, ah, return his affections?"
"Oh, Giles!" She ran her hands over her face and through her hair. "You don't know what I'm like at all. For the last few months, I was a monster."
"That seems most unlikely," he said gently.
"You don't know," Buffy said mournfully. "I can hardly believe it myself, the way I acted. And after all that, he wanted to help me!"
"Buffy -- " Giles stared thoughtfully at the birdfeeder. He needed to be fair about this.
Whatever his own personal feelings of protectiveness towards Buffy, and longstanding enmity towards Spike, he felt strongly that this whole situation was important, somehow. From the beginning, something about Spike's predicament -- first his enforced harmlessness, then his frankly insane love for the Slayer -- had felt oddly significant to Giles. He'd never been able to explain it to himself. Amongst his researches in Council archives was an investigation of whether even the hint of any other relationship between Slayer and vampire had ever been recorded, and what he had found astounded him. And his consultation with Spike earlier in the day (including, of course, information provided by Spike's new associates) had confirmed the truth of many things he would previously have found simply beyond belief.
He said finally, "Whatever passed between you -- and I can't believe it was as bad as you imagine -- do try and remember that Spike owes his soul and his future to you. He would never have achieved what he has -- and it is a remarkable achievement -- if he hadn't loved you."
"He does," she said bitterly, "but maybe he shouldn't. Giles, let me tell you something -- right now, it's a consolation to me that he's lying up there because somebody else tortured him this time, not me. What does that tell you about me?" She was afraid to look in his eyes, afraid to see the shock there. But she had to tell someone.
Giles didn't sound shocked at all. He answered carefully, "It's very hard, I know, but it's also very necessary to know what one is capable of; indeed, to know that one is in fact capable of unforgivable acts. Because we all are, Buffy."
"Aren't we supposed to be the good guys?"
"That doesn't mean we can never do wrong. I certainly can't say I haven't. I've done terrible things, Buffy, and without even the consolation of having done them for the right reasons. Perhaps we need to face what's in us all. Perhaps it's a necessary step to forgive others."
"I haven't been too good at that, either."
"All of us know, now, that the darkness within us is very seductive. I do, Spike certainly does, Xander, Anya, and you know it; we can only hope this is something Willow has learned. But we don't have to remain mired in the past, either. We can't."
"I don't know if I can make it up -- "
"My dear girl, whatever happened, you've got a new start now. Indeed, Spike is the best example you could have. I always thought there was something in store for him; it hardly seemed that his otherwise rather pointless presence here in Sunnydale, and his fascination for you, could be merely an accident. But don't forget, his past doesn't bear thinking of. Who ever could have imagined what he would become?"
" 'Evening, all," Spike said sleepily from the doorway behind them.
TBC
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"AND have we done with War at last?
Well, we've been lucky devils both,
And there's no need of pledge or oath
To bind our lovely friendship fast,
By firmer stuff
Close bound enough."
Robert Graves
RETURN
Part 12. Close Bound Enough
Buffy went out to sit on the back porch. It was late afternoon. Spike slept solidly in her bed, and Willow was huddled upstairs, alone and silent. No one had the heart to rouse Xander and Anya from the couch, where they had dropped off, clinging together. Even Dawn, a teenager stuffed with sugar and caffeine, had, astonishingly, gone to her room for an extended nap. Only Giles forced himself to keep awake, working alone over reference books in the dining room. It had been a beautiful, sunny day, in any other circumstances an invitation to walks in the park and carefree shopping. Branches swayed gently in a warm spring breeze, and birds twittered around her mother's feeder. She felt her shoulders relax a little, at last.
It was partly the sunshine that calmed her and partly the memory of Spike asleep in her arms. His head had felt deliciously heavy against her shoulder, and ever so softly, so as not to wake him, she had run her hands over his shoulders and back, just memorizing the feel of him once more. It was heaven. That strange little voice inside her was singing about love again, and now she just let it sing.
After a while, Giles joined her on the steps, holding a mug of very strong, very sweet tea. He opened his mouth to speak, and then suddenly thought better of it. Why shouldn't she have a day or two to rest up, without being burdened with the ill-starred portents he had spent the afternoon tracking down?
"Well! The last few days have been eventful, to say the least," he said instead. "How are you holding up? Tired?"
"Tired, but good. Overwhelmed and confused, but good. I guess we won," she said, smiling at him.
"Yes, we did." He hesitated, and decided not to say 'for now.'
"Everything will be different now," Buffy said a little sadly. "Whatever happens. The way we were is just -- gone; when we put the pieces back together, we'll have something else. Once I would have thought that was awful. Once I just wanted things be like they used to be, but now I -- I can't wait,"
"That could be called growing up, Buffy."
"That's what they keep telling me," she said. She stretched, and they sat in companionable silence for a while. The soporific effects of sun, fresh air, and a metaphysical vitality drain were beginning to tell on them both. "Fighting people is way more tiring than fighting monsters," she complained eventually, stifling a yawn. "I can't even kill anything. There's no resolution. Just the promise of more trouble down the road."
"True. It's the moral ambiguity, I expect. Very wearing on the nerves." He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Not to mention the mystical drain on your strength. The forces unleashed by the convergence of Willow's real power and Warren's artificially enhanced power literally sucked some of the energy out of our world. Not a lot -- we were able to stop it in time, or rather Spike was."
"So everybody's got the post-almost-apocalypse snoozies? And Spike saved the world -- again?" Buffy chuckled. That was so weird. Especially since it sort of kept happening.
"It looks like it, yes; he and his, ah, comrades. There's no telling what the result would have been if the energy drain had gone on. For one thing, we don't know where it went -- which is a bit ominous. Though perhaps Spike and I can look into that later." He didn't really want to tell her that he suspected the answer would not prove encouraging. It was so good to see her smile again, if only for a little while.
"I've gotta say it's strange to hear you say that, Giles!" she laughed.
"It's strange to hear myself say it. Though not as strange as you might think. I did know about the Thisavrizo, as an intriguing legend, not a reality. But the idea is not as outlandish as one would imagine." Giles became quite animated on the topic of his most recent research. "Quite frankly, the trials that must be overcome are so daunting that, as far as I know, the challenge has never even been taken up by a human." He didn't notice Buffy's wince at that. "However, it should have occurred to us that a vampire might succeed, because -- and I think this will surprise you -- Spike is not the first Watcher to be, um, a vampire."
"What!?" Buffy exclaimed, "though may I pause and say I feel like I've been saying that an awful lot lately."
"I know. It seems quite unthinkable. Obviously, it's happened very seldom. But it has happened."
"Well, color me flabbergasted. Would those be all soul-y guys? You know like -- like Spike?" It still felt peculiar to say that. Spike. Soul. Lots of souls. She shook her head.
"I'm actually not quite clear on that point. It seems that the Council of Watchers does not make every resource known to mere field troops who actually face vampires, like myself," he said with undisguised resentment. "However, some of the inhabitants of Spike's head -- so to speak -- literally wrote the books, so I now have access to a bit more information. Indeed, I have access to more than anyone else alive, I suspect. And I use the word 'alive' advisedly, of course."
"'The Worm Turns, or, The Librarian's Revenge'!"
"I must say, the thought of the expression on Quentin Travers' face has been cheering me quite considerably," said Giles happily. "Not that I think we should rush into informing the Council of what's happened, but still."
He looked at her lovely face, her lips curved softly into a smile. "You look happy, Buffy." Despite the exhaustion, despite the desperate emotions of the last few weeks, she seemed almost serene. He couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd seen her look contented. Suddenly it occurred to him to wonder --
Buffy looked away for a moment, and then met his eyes. "It's because Spike came home," she said simply.
"I see." Giles said. Well, it wasn't surprising, was it? As knights in shining armor went, Spike was perhaps an unusual specimen -- especially since he wasn't exactly alive, and his armor was considerably dented, too -- but one could hardly deny that he had proved himself this time. However much one might wish to. "I take it you've found that you, ah, return his affections?"
"Oh, Giles!" She ran her hands over her face and through her hair. "You don't know what I'm like at all. For the last few months, I was a monster."
"That seems most unlikely," he said gently.
"You don't know," Buffy said mournfully. "I can hardly believe it myself, the way I acted. And after all that, he wanted to help me!"
"Buffy -- " Giles stared thoughtfully at the birdfeeder. He needed to be fair about this.
Whatever his own personal feelings of protectiveness towards Buffy, and longstanding enmity towards Spike, he felt strongly that this whole situation was important, somehow. From the beginning, something about Spike's predicament -- first his enforced harmlessness, then his frankly insane love for the Slayer -- had felt oddly significant to Giles. He'd never been able to explain it to himself. Amongst his researches in Council archives was an investigation of whether even the hint of any other relationship between Slayer and vampire had ever been recorded, and what he had found astounded him. And his consultation with Spike earlier in the day (including, of course, information provided by Spike's new associates) had confirmed the truth of many things he would previously have found simply beyond belief.
He said finally, "Whatever passed between you -- and I can't believe it was as bad as you imagine -- do try and remember that Spike owes his soul and his future to you. He would never have achieved what he has -- and it is a remarkable achievement -- if he hadn't loved you."
"He does," she said bitterly, "but maybe he shouldn't. Giles, let me tell you something -- right now, it's a consolation to me that he's lying up there because somebody else tortured him this time, not me. What does that tell you about me?" She was afraid to look in his eyes, afraid to see the shock there. But she had to tell someone.
Giles didn't sound shocked at all. He answered carefully, "It's very hard, I know, but it's also very necessary to know what one is capable of; indeed, to know that one is in fact capable of unforgivable acts. Because we all are, Buffy."
"Aren't we supposed to be the good guys?"
"That doesn't mean we can never do wrong. I certainly can't say I haven't. I've done terrible things, Buffy, and without even the consolation of having done them for the right reasons. Perhaps we need to face what's in us all. Perhaps it's a necessary step to forgive others."
"I haven't been too good at that, either."
"All of us know, now, that the darkness within us is very seductive. I do, Spike certainly does, Xander, Anya, and you know it; we can only hope this is something Willow has learned. But we don't have to remain mired in the past, either. We can't."
"I don't know if I can make it up -- "
"My dear girl, whatever happened, you've got a new start now. Indeed, Spike is the best example you could have. I always thought there was something in store for him; it hardly seemed that his otherwise rather pointless presence here in Sunnydale, and his fascination for you, could be merely an accident. But don't forget, his past doesn't bear thinking of. Who ever could have imagined what he would become?"
" 'Evening, all," Spike said sleepily from the doorway behind them.
TBC
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"AND have we done with War at last?
Well, we've been lucky devils both,
And there's no need of pledge or oath
To bind our lovely friendship fast,
By firmer stuff
Close bound enough."
Robert Graves