TITLE: Convergence Prt 7: Closer Than They Thought
RATING: PG, Language
DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters, ME, Joss Whedon, Fox, Kazui et al all do.And damn me for not being a part of that dynasty. sigh Anyway, I make no profit from my stories, unless you count the enjoyment of others and feedback.
SETTING: Season 7 AU
SUMMARY: Spike fesses up to Clem and Buffy, Giles and Anya have Thai, Xander and Dawn have heart to heart, and Buffy almost loses.
FEEDBACK: Oh my goodness yes. I realize it has been FOREVER since I started this thing (a little over two years, but school, work and puter problems have kept me away) so, please, let me know I am on the right track. PLEASE? I'm a desparate feedback whore. lol
Chapter 7 : Closer Than They Thought
Spike made his way home in the dark, his vampire sight keen in the pitch blackness of the cemetery. Still reeling from the news of the prophecy and unwilling to concede its truth value, he muttered his anger and frustration at the Powers That Be and sliced the thick late summer air with insults hurled at the writers of the scrolls. So intent he was on committing murder with his tongue, he nearly forgot where he lived, only remembering when the hiding iron door opened in front of him.
Clem with his trusty bucket of goodies stood in the door, smiling his loopy, if somewhat black, smile. "Hey Spike! I thought that was you. I mean no one else curses dead people like you do. What's up?" He saw the familiar look of angered anguish on Spike's face, knowing immediately what, or rather who, was responsible. "Oh no," he sighed, " not the Slayer. Again." He shook his head in resigned exasperation. "Dude. You two - I swear - just need to be avoiding each other." He stepped quickly to the side as an angry Spike stormed into the crypt. Pushing the big door closed, Clem followed the vampire inside.
Watching as Spike paced the interior of the crypt, Clem muttered "Dude, you are definitely too invested. What is going on?"
Spike marched into what could be called the kitchen, if one microwave and a hotplate on a cart could be called a kitchen, and immediately reached for the bottle of whiskey he kept there. Not bothering with a glass, he drank deeply from the bottle, relishing the searing burn in his throat as he swallowed.
"Damn that Slayer!" he growled. "And damn me too, if it weren't just so bloody redundant." He shook his head in resignation. "I honestly don't know why I let myself get so wrapped up in her, mate. It always leads to pain." He took another fortifying swig from the bottle.
"Well, duh, guy. Let's recap, shall we? You: vampire. Her: Slayer. You eat her kind, she stakes yours. What part of the equation is hard for you to understand? I mean, I hang with Dawn and all cuz hey. Free food and movies, but I ain't about to make friends with the Slayer. I mean, I'm a Demon. Hello??"
"Yeah, yeah, I know all that mate, but she - that delicious bint - is under my bloody skin. God, what I would'nt give for another trip to Africa right now!"
At this blasted statement, Clem pulled his attention. "Umm, about that, Africa I mean. What happened the first time around? You said you had news for me, but never shared." He munched absently on a chicken wing. "So, gonna give info now, or what?"
"Well, if you must know, I went to Africa for a soul. Tired of being stick in limbo, right? So I went and fought for the one thing I thought would make a difference, that would put me in a place where I could be part of their world, even if only in the shadows." Spike took a slower swig of whiskey, having calmed sufficiently to enjoy the flavor over the bracing burn.
Clem, still obviously confused, said, "Ok, so what'dya get?"
"A soul."
"A soul?"
"A bleedin' soul, mate. I thought it would give me some leverage in that world of the living, but no! Some buggared prophecy has to let me know that it's all for naught. So now, not only am I love's bitch, but I'm fate's bleedin handmaid too. Bugger all. Why even bother. Maybe I should just meet the soddin sunrise. That will teach those high and blighty buggars about messin with a man's freedom."
"Hmm. Well, sunrise aside, Spike, what does the prophecy say exactly?' Clem thought for a minute. "I mean, I'm not all up on the ancient prophecy stuff like you are, but I do know that they are never literal. I mean, it's the nature of prophecy as an art that it is has to be vague. Plus, partial translations are the worst!" He moved toward Spike and also took a quick draft from the whiskey bottle. During his speech, Spike had turned to him with interest, realizing Clem might be right. He had been so focused on what Giles and Willow said, he forgot about the more often than not intentional vagaries of prophetic writing.
The anger cleared from his face, and was replaced with a thoughtful expression. "Buggar all, Clem, you're right. Damn me and my pessimism. Those silly bints - the Watcher and Red, I mean. Only have a partial translation of -" he interrupted himself, grinning wickedly. "Oh. This is just, neat." He started over to the chair in front of the tv, grabbing some blood from the fridge on the way, silently thanking Clem for keeping him stocked, while he'd been away. Clem followed him back to the living area, and sat down opposite Spike, grabbing another wing from the bucket he still carried.
"So. What do they think the prophecy means?"
"They seem to think it means I'll eat Buffy." Spike grinned, "and not in a good way," he said leering.
"Ahh, understanding the angry now. You get a soul, because you love her, and back less than two weeks and get told you're going to kill her. Great, thanks so much PTB, eh? That's gotta suck man." Clem nibbled thoughtfully.
"Well, it was a mite disturbing, but not so much now. Thanks mate, you're a help, ya know?"
"I do try, of course. Want some chicken?"
Spike laughed, and nicked a leg from the bucket. "Don't mind if I do, actually."
Having temporarily resolved the issue of the prophecy crisis, Spike catches Clem up on the event with Dawn and the glowing green freak Dylan. Amazed, Clem comments on how he always knew Dawn was special and if they needed him he would be around. They continued to play catch up as the sun rose over the valley, until Spike finally nodded off to the sleep of the undead. Clem, not really wanting to leave the crypt he's called home for three months, nods off watching the morning cartoons.
A Few Days Later
On the outskirts of Sunnydale, the forests rang with energy. Glowing from deep within the thicket, the myriad colors swelled in their fog and a low moaning, whispered chant grew ever stronger. Dylan observed from his perch, high up the valley wall, as the gyrating mass continued to collect itself from the sources around Sunnydale. He mildly wondered if the Slayer suffered yet. He knew that as this collection of energies, grew, it would feed off of her, periodically, weakening her - draining her of her precious powers. He silently, curiously, wondered how this Convergence would end. All others had lead to death. Of course, there were never the factors and variables involved before like there are this time. An older slayer, a key - how had that come about anyway? It had never been human before - a witch and a souled vampire, and a human who had no powers as far as Dylan could see. He feared for the little band of warriors, knowing sacrifice was never easy, but willing to bet this group was used to it.
He sighed aloud and left his perch on the valley wall, figuring he may as well keep to his work on how to extract the key and the return it to its vessel when its purpose had been fulfilled. Not for the first time he shook his head in marvel at the tenacity of the Slayer and her contrived family. In all his millennia, throughout the many dimensions he has traveled, this tiny seemingly insignificant group of people are the only ones he has encountered with the passion, perseverance and love to see their tasks through. And for some strange reason, he knew if he failed in his simple promise to find a way, his very existence was in jeopardy from that same buggered band of brothers and sisters. He grinned and set about his promise.
Giles stared in frustration at the cryptic writing before him. The translation of the ancient symbols had long ceased to make any sense, and he felt the process becoming futile, a waste of energy. So far the only good thing to come of this abrupt trip across the pond was the homey accommodations Anya provided. He never in his wildest thoughts considered the vengeance demon to be so domestic. However, her usual tactlessness along with her penchant for blunt honesty were in rare demonstration. She was actually an adept homemaker and hostess. Aside from the initial doubts about Willow, she had proved to be quite gracious and solicitous. He again marveled at Xander's reasons for not marrying her, though, the more he thought about it, the clearer it became to him that it was more about Xander and his faults than about Anya.
He rubbed his tired eyes, dismissing the wayward thoughts of the wedding that wasn't. Glancing across the room at the two females he found himself residing with, he wondered what sort of progress or nonprogress they were making. The two heads bent studiously over the papers reminded him - rather wistfully - of the earlier times in the library doing similar research about obscure demons, gods and vampires. He smiled as he continued to gaze at the two young women.
As if feeling his gaze, Anya's blond head slowly lifted, turning to look at him. Catching his absent eye, she smiled genuinely, then asked if he needed something. "Something to eat maybe, or drink?" Her words floated to his ears, startling him from his reverie.
"A Break." he said suddenly. "What do you say we, um, take a break. You know, perhaps refreshments would be in order?" He put his glasses on, awaiting a response.
"Well, sure. I could use a snack," Anya nodded. "We've been at this for hours today. Time has positively flown." This said with the usual exuberance. "Willow, what about you? Hungry?"
Looking up distractedly, Willow responded that she had finally started making headway and a break would reduce her momentum into wonkiness, then she'd never get anything done, but that Anya and Giles should definitely break if they wanted. Of course a big dose of caffeiney goodness would be appreciated.
"Alright Willow. We'll bring ya back some lunch or something," Anya replied, then turning to Giles, "Where do you want to break? There's a great new Thai place downtown?"
"Sounds lovely. I love spicy, but Willow doesn't. We'll stop somewhere on the way back." He turned to Willow, "If you're sure you don't want to come, that is?"
"Yeah, I'm fine - just bring something back," she returned to the scrolls and translations. Her mind already back on her work. "Jelly donuts too, though!"
Giles shook his head at Willow's enthusiasm for the encrusted sweets, shuddering at the ache that beset his teeth at the thought. Nodding to Anya, they turned to leave.
On the way to Thai It Up, the restaurant Anya was talking about, Giles found himself wanting to know how she had been since the non-wedding, and whether she thought she would ever work things out with Xander. He broached the subjects carefully, mindful of her status as a vengeance demon and still concerned for his friend's well being.
She sat back in the seat, sinking into the soft leather, almost as thought seeking safety. "Xander and I are completely over. It really was quite painful for a while and I kept hoping someone would wish vengeance on him for any little thing. You should have seen me, Giles. I kept begging for Buffy or Willow - even Tara and Dawn - to wish for something horrible so that I could maim him." She shook her head. "I felt so awful, of course I was back to my demony self, but so not up on the vengeance thing. I just wanted .. I don't know. Comfort? Yeah, that's what it was. Anyway, to make a long story short, I ended up varnishing the table with Spike, as Xander likes to say so often."
She wrapped her arms about her self tightly and drew her knees up, as though she could squeeze out the memory, not noticing Giles' face grimace at her frank choice of description.. "I slept with Spike, thinking Xander didn't love me. He found out, still don't know how that happened. Came to the Magic Box, out of his mind and ready to kill Spike and disown me. When he left, after flinging really horrific insults - not to mention finding out about Buffy and Spike together - Spike started to make the wish that I so wanted to fulfill."
She stopped and Giles raised his eyebrows, silently encouraging her to finish the telling. It seemed as though it was cathartic for her, and he wanted her to feel better. "Go on," he said.
She nodded, unfolding her arms, sighing, feeling a little lost, but grateful for someone that at least appeared to want her to feel better. "I stopped Spike from uttering the wish. I still loved that bastard, Xander I mean, not Spike. You know. I really do, and I know that he loves me, but it's over. I need things he can't provide for reasons I'm not sure about." She let out a breath slowly, then continued. "I'm 1100 years old, Rupert. I can call you that right?"
She didn't notice the change in him when she used his given name; she missed the pleased shock and the small smile. He nodded his approval, though she didn't see but continued anyway. "As a human with all those things so new again, I forgot that. I don't want younger anymore, although a similarly pleasing package would be nice. I want love, Rupert. Passion and lust are nice and all, but they don't last. I can't believe I forgot that." Her eyes downcast, she couldn't see the thoughtfulness that entered his expression.
"Anya?"
She lifted her face to him, lost in her own thoughts, and being pulled out of her own mind by the tenderness and understanding she heard in his utterance of her name. "Yeah?"
"I don't think you have to worry about love or passion or lust. They all come in due course." His voice lost its usual stammer, as it always did when he was imparting simple serious wisdom. "From really unexpected places. Bear in mind though, that they always are painful and only occasionally are completely joyful. The true test is working through pain to find the other half of yourself." He looked out to windshield of her car, noticing that they had arrived at the restaurant.
"Is this the place?" he asked her as he turned off the car.
"Umm" she too had been distracted and looked around outside the vehicle to confirm where they were. "Yeah. We're here." She laughed a little self-consciously. "Golly, Giles, don't mind me. I guess it just helps to have a willing ear, you know? Thank you."
"Well, um, I guess the only other thing I can say is 'you're welcome.' But then, of course you know, I'd have to say thanks to you for putting Willow and I up. I know it has to inconvenience you." They exited the car, and began the short walk to the restaurant. "That said, you have been a consummate hostess and research partner." He guided her gently along to the restaurant door, absent-mindedly putting a gentle hand to the small of her back as he escorted her in.
Her eyes drifted closed at the casual touch, and she smiled a little. "Anytime, Rupert." She paused a beat, as they walked inside to their table. "I really like that name, 'Rupert.'" She turned to look directly at him. "Why do you go by 'Giles'?"
He laughed a little self conciously. "Well, when you're sixteen, interested in girls all that they entail, 'Rupert' doesn't seem to instill the proper amount of, shall we say, intrigue?" He grinned wickedly. "'Giles' is sexier. Of course, you don't want to know what they called me after public school before university."
This intrigued her greatly. "Oh and why not? Something better than 'Giles' and 'Rupert'? Ohh, I have to know now."
"Umm, no. A world of no. Believe me." He thought for a second. "Well, maybe after a few drinks, ok?" They laughed amiably, finding their table and sitting down.
As they continued to enjoy the moment, Buffy and Dawn appeared at their table side. Dawn appraised the situation silently, noting how comfortable the two people appeared in each other's company. Buffy, however, was less inhibited.
"Well, you two look all kinds of cozy. What goings on am I detecting, hmmm?" At their shocked faces, she laughed. Gosh, guys, I'm just teasing. Where's Willow?" Giles watched as Dawn visibly bristled at the mention of Willow's name. Buffy, too noticed the stiffening, and said, "Relax, lil sis, I don't think she's here." She focused on Giles. "Is she?"
"Umm, no. At he moment, that is to say, she decided to stay at Anya's and work on the translations. She mentioned something about not breaking momentum. We felt it best to just take something back to her." He smiled ruefully. "Of course, I also promised jellies, so..." he let the sentence trail off.
Buffy nodded. "Ahh, the infamous jellies. Often, that was the only reason I bothered to stay for research." Her eyes widened. "Ummm, I didn't just say that. I mean, researching demons was - is a good thing. Yes." She winked them, finally including Anya in her gaze then her smile broadened. "I won't ask why you're staying with Anya when there are so many good hotels around. I'll just let you two figure that out, k? Come on Slayerette," she took Dawn by the arm, "let's get some kicks in before patrol tonight." And the two girls were off, leaving Giles completely flummoxed.
"Why that cheeky little..."
"Oh, don't worry bout it," Anya looked slyly at him, "'Giles.'" She winked at him.
His eyes widened perceptibly, then narrowed. "And now you. I've half a mind to - never mind. I refuse to dignify the cheekiness of either of you." He picked up the menu tucked behind the condiments. "I'm starved, so let's eat."
Anya simply laughed out loud, grateful for the ability to do so, and picked up her own menu.
The Summers' basement has somehow acquired the equipment from the workout room of the Magic Box, and though the quarters were cramped, Buffy was glad for the proximity. She and Dawn worked out nearly every morning before school as well as did warm ups before patrolling. Dawn was growing more and more into her keyness everyday and the mystical abilities lent her a grace that no gangly 17 year old should have. Buffy was jealous. She had always had the power and coordination of her Slayer prowess, but the fluid feline grace was always something she lacked. It both pleased and irritated her that her little sister got that grace.
As she ducked to avoid a long graceful leg and the kick it was engaged in, she called for a halt in their sparring. Lately, she had been getting winded and tired faster than was normal and she was losing her focus more often. This was just such a time.
Dawn halted her mock attack, knowing something was wrong. Buffy rarely stops in their workout sessions, but lately it was happening more frequently.
"Buffy? You ok?"
"Yeah, Dawnie, just a little tired. I didn't get much sleep last night."
"Why not?"
"I don't' really know, but I kept thinking about Spike. I mean, there was something different about him that night he was over. He seemed, I don't know… calmer, more at peace. But then when Giles and Will revealed what they knew about the prophecy, he flipped. And when he left? I don't know what's up with him."
"Hmmm. Seems to me like you two have some talking to do. Why don't you go see him? He's been through a lot and you'll be surprised about what has changed in him. I see him in he crypt when I go to visit Clem." Dawn informed her. "I'm working through my anger issues with him now, and didn't that just sound so like some guidance counselor stuff there? Man. Anyway, I have to say that I can be proud of some of the things I am finding out about him."
She moved toward the stairs since their workout seemed to be over. "Go talk to him Buffy. He needs all the human contact he can get right now. Besides, you never did hold that night against him. Unlike the rest of us. You have no reason not to see him except cowardice." She walked up the stairs and out of the basement.
"I know." Buffy whispered. Then slowly followed her younger – yet seemingly now much wiser – sister into the kitchen. Silently they fixed something to snack on, then both went their separate ways to their bedrooms. Caught up in their own worlds, neither heard the small truck pull into the driveway.
Xander sat in the cab of the truck, wondering what on earth he was doing there. He had no reason for a visit, nothing dreadfully important, but he wanted to see his girls. Exiting the truck, he walked up the porch and reached to knock, as the door opened and Buffy emerged, looking ready to leave. "Hey Buff. How's my girl?" He greeted her with a questioning smile.
"Hey, Xan. I was just on my way out. Dawn's inside though, so feel free to go on in – make yourself at home." Buffy shrugged into her jacket and hugged him before she left.
"Alrighty then, have a good time," he called after her. He was dying inside. He didn't want to face Dawn alone – not without some sort of crutch. But he resolved to be an adult and waved goodbye to Buffy as she walked out of the yard. Moving slowly inside, he shut the door and called for Dawn. "Hey Dawn? Dawnie! I thought you might like some company before you go out on patrol. You here?"
"Up here. Come on up." Her small voice filtered downstairs to him. And he went up in search of her. Finding her lounging on her bed reading he stepped into her room, leaving the door opened behind him.
"So. How's my favorite lock picker doin tonight?" he asked as he sat beside her on the bed. "Whatchya reading?"
"Just some stupid book for school. i>The Awakening. /i> Ever read it?" She continued to read, without looking up at him, and didn't see his eyes widen.
"Umm, yeah, I think so." He evaded the question, thinking young girls shouldn't be reading Chopin in high school. He knew full well the story. It was one of his favorites: a woman coming into her own sexuality in repressive times. What's not there for a guy to love? Causes all kinds of confusion and problems, what with the sexual tensions and all. Oh, he can't believe he just thought that. "But it's a chick's book, so of course, I promptly forgot all about it after the exam," he says, hoping to have concealed at least some of the discomfort he felt about discussing awakenings of any kind with Dawn.
"Oh well. It's really interesting. Although I don't know why they would assign it to high schoolers." Dawn frowned in confusion, not realizing she was mirroring Xander's thoughts on the subject. Shaking her head, she closed the book and turned to Xander. "So, Xan man, what brings you by?" She sat up and leaned over to hug him. "Don't think you get away without hugging either."
He embraced her briefly, closing his eyes. "Ahh, nothing really. Just haven't seen ya in a while."
"And whose fault is that? Huh? Mr. Leave in a hurry?"
"Yeah, Yeah, You have a point. Something just came up and I had to go." He fended off further inquiry by asking about her nights on patrol and how she was feeling, coming into her keyness.
"Patrolling is great - uneventful, but workouts are getting weird. Buffy keeps getting winded earlier and earlier. She says she's just distracted, but I don't know."
"She'll be alright, Dawnie. She's the Slayer. She tough."
"Yeah, I guess."
"So... what about being the key?"
Her enthusiasm sprang back into her voice.
"Oh my God, Xander! This is the neatest thing. I'm so glad I'm not just some ordinary teenager. I don't have to use my combination on my locker or a password on a computer. It's so neat and every time I use it, my power, if you could call it that, gets stronger."
"Wow, soon we'll have 2 super girls on our hands, defending us from demons." He smiled at her then changed the subject. "Have you given any more thought to the deal with Willow?"
"Yeah, actually. I do want to see her. Find out what happened and all that. I mean, she's been in town a week, staying at Anya's even."
"Anya's? Really?"
"Yeah, her and Giles. Buffy and I saw them at the new Thai. place. Well, we saw Giles and Anya, not Willow."
"Giles and Anya? On, like, a date?"
"Not sure. They were laughing at something, looking.... I don't know... oblivious to the rest of the world. But when Buffy said something, they didn't act guilty or anything." She looked over at him. "Why? You jealous?" She teased.
"Honestly, no. I think I'm movin on, so to speak."
"Ooo, really. Is she pretty?" She asked.
He looked at her for a beat. "Beautiful."
"Well, she'd have to be for you to want to be with her. I've seen pictures of Cordelia, and Anya's definitely a hottie."
"Yeah, I got good taste, I know. Too bad they don't."
"Hey! Don't you talk about my friend that way. I think you are so hot. I mean. Look at you." She stood him up in front of the mirror. "You're all tall, dark, and muscular. Not to mention a great guy. Any chicky would be a fool to pass up the likes of you." Her eyes met his in the mirror.
"You think so?" He spoke to the girl in the mirror.
Her breath caught at the seriousness in his tone.
She turned to face the real Xander instead of the mirror image. "Absolutely, Xander. Why? Don't you?"
He shook his head. "Ingrained, I guess. Always been called worthless, stupid and useless and as always the bad stuff's easier to believe, to quote a Pretty woman. But. You. Willow, Buffy, even Cordy and Anya have shown me something different. But, yea, I'm movin on. I had the much needed talk with Anya and it is possible that we'll be friends again, at some point. That would be nice. But for now? Who knows who I'll hook up with." He laughed genuinely. "She'd have to be kinda crazy, just like me."
Dawn reached up to hug him again. "You'll find her, Xan, but to get you, she'll have to pass by me."
"Ooo, scary, I must say. Somehow, I don't think that will be a problem, Dawnmeister." He let her go. "So, what do you want to do tonight? Dinner?" She shook her head. "Hmm, movie?" Again, a shake of her head. "Ahh, negatory on the movie too, eh? You're tryin me here, chicky... Cards? Monopoly? Video games?" No, no, no. She just smiled as she shook her head. "Then what?"
"Hide and seek."
"Hide and seek." He said, not a question.
"Yup. I know just the place."
"Oh good lord, girl. You'll kill me yet. Or your sister will." He followed as she tugged him down the stairs out the door and to the truck. "Drive me to the graveyard, Jeeves!" She told him. He laughed, checked to be sure the stakes were in the truck, (one could never be too careful in Sunnydale) and they were off.
"Your sister is so going to kill me."
"So, spike, what's up?" Buffy shook her head. " I mean, you never really filled me in on your trip." Again, she shook her head. Come on, Buffy, she thought to herself, thinking of something. She berated herself as she walked through the graves, oblivious.
"I don't know why you bother, Slayer." His soft deep voice interrupted her. "You never say what you mean to me anyway - no need to rehearse - the lies roll off better without."
"Ahh, hey Spike." She clasped her hands in front of her.
"Slayer." He hopped down from his perch on the crypt roof. "What brings you to my humble hole in the ground?"
"Well. You've been acting kind of strange. I want to know why." At his doubting dismissive look, she confessed. "Dawn sent me. She said we needed to talk. That you and she have cleared your problems and there is something new about you that I am missing." She looked askance at him. "What happened in Africa, Spike?"
"A lot, Slayer, none of which I need to tell you about, now do I? To me, to you, because of you. You were right." He started walking. "I was a monster, you know that, you were there. I - we don't have to rehash it, do we? But dammit, I was a man, no matter how much you wanted to deny it. I loved you, and you loved me too, I think. But decided you couldn't, didn't you? I was nothing to you. Missing some vital piece of metaphysical whatever that no matter how hard I tried, you couldn't get past it."
He stalked back to her, whispering in her ear, "I babysat for Dawn, you didn't accept me. I fought along side you Scoobs, you couldn't accept me. I offered you friendship, honesty and understanding when they - your real friends - ripped you from heaven and left you to dig your way out of your own grave. Held your bloody hands afterwards. Still, you couldn't accept me." His hand crept up to circle her neck as his voice dropped even lower. "I took your beating, Slayer, your insults and your rage. Your hatred for this world and yourself." His mouth so close to her ear. "For what?"
She closed her eyes to the truth, but it continued to ring in her ears, delivered so quietly, menacingly. The harsh words coming from a man condemned by love and fate to forever be a bitch. "Spike." It came out a tortured whisper.
His grip tightened at his name dripping from her lips. "I worshiped you Buffy. And when it didn't work, when you still wouldn't accept me, this demon who lives in me, owns me, hurt you. The monster squashed the man. Well, not any more." He let her go, and turned from her, forcing her with silence to look at him. To see him. "You want to know what happened in Africa?" He asked, his head cocked to the side.
"Yes." a simple whisper, looking at the ground.
"Tell me something Buffy. Do you love me now? Now that you're back to being you? All light and life? No more of the darkness in you? The darkness that you hated? Do you, can you love me now? Did you ever?"
"Spike." Her eyes closed, her voice but a whisper, like his. It wasas though the admission was forced from her subconcious, like she just realized it herself and the shock snatched her voice, so she fought to speak."I loved you when you let Glory destroy you. I loved you when you took my hand and told me every night you saved me. I loved you when that house fell around us, when I beat you bloody in the alley, even when you left my house that night."
She opened her eyes to look at him. This time forcing him to look at her with silence. "Is there darkness in me? Yes."
She took a step toward him, and he cocked his head to watch her, fearful he was about to be decimated once again. "Do I hate it?" She shook her head, "Not when I'm with you. You make the darkness right. I can't be that with the others, only with you. And I need that."
She continued to step to him. "I need the dark, to do what I have to do, day in and night out. I need to be ok with it, to use it, to embrace it, and you are the one person that lets me do that without regret." She smiled while he looked utterly confused. I need you, I want you. And god help me, I love you. It may take me a while, blondie, but I can tell the truth just as well as anybody out there. Even when it hurts." She took his hand in hers. "Now. Tell me what happened in Africa."
He shook himself aware again, having got lost in her words. "Seems pointless now, don't it? Except it makes me better for me." He grinned wryly. "I asked for, fought for, and won something I needed." He watched her face, closely, gaging her response to him. "My soul, Buffy."
It was the last thing she expected. It was the last thing she wanted, him to change who he was for her.
"Why? I'm sorry, I never meant for you to - "
"Oh, it wasn't for you, goldilocks, you egotistical little bint." He laughed at her. "It was for me. Something had to change. I totally bollixed things up as a baddie - as evil - completely unsuccessful. But I wasn't completely able to not be evil. I had more fun being good - odd as that is for a vamp, so I figured why not make it official. I mean, if the Great Brooding Poofter could do it, why not me. Monster bad, Spike good. Plus, I knew it would help me with you, either by ending the obsession or securing your favor. So which is it?"
She smiled at the fear and self doubt behind the deep blue of his eyes, thinking this must be the ever elusive William. Then noticing that this was a familiar look on him, that she had seen it so many times before. She finally realized that William is Spike is William, just with more pizzazz.
"You always have my favor, Will - I mean, Spike."
Good. Great. Excellent.
"Oh for pete's sake!" The new voice startled them both. "What is this? Passions? Vampire in love with Slayer in love with vampire with soul? Ugh! I have been listenin to you two blather on for what seems like an eternity."
They turned to see the latest addition to the Sunnydale vampire populace. "Can I kill you now?"
Buffy looked as Spike and he nodded understanding.
"You may certainly try, but I warn you, it won't be your finest hour."
The vampire reached out and punched her, knocking her aside. Then he stepped in and grabbed her by the neck. "Oh I think it shall." Lifting her and tossing her backwards. She sprang up, delivering a kick to his stomach, then rounding back, punching him twice in the face. Spike circled around to the trees, knowing she was without stake, and broke off a limb for a weapon. He watched her battle admirably, tossing her the branch in an available moment, simultaneously kicking the new vamp down.
"Dammit all! I was hoping for at least an hour - you aren't even worth the wasted effort, fledgling." Spike growled. "Stake him, Slayer."
When she didn't advance, he glanced around to her. She stood, barely holding the heavy branch, close to falling to her knees. Sensing her true distress, he dispatched the vamp with a vicious twist of his head, effectively decapitating and dusting him.
"Buffy?!?! Buffy, are you alright? What's wrong?" He checked her for injuries.
"Spike? I don't know. I feel fine - even normal." She looked afraid. "What's wrong with me?" The fear crept out of her voice, and down his back. He helped her stand and heard rustling off to his right.
"Who's there?" He demanded.
"Spike, it's us, Xander and Dawn." Xander's voice came through the brush, instantly easing Spike's fear. "Holy cow, what's up with Buffy?"
"She lost her strength."
"Oh my god! Buffy, are you alright?" Dawn rushed over to her, making sure she was uninjured. Spike wondered at the apparent lack of surprise and fear in Dawn's voice. All her heard was acceptance.
"I'm completely fine, Dawn, I'm just normal. Got none of my Slayer power that I can tell, but hey, I always wanted to be Normal Girl, right?"
"We have to find out what's going on." This from an astonished Xander. " Good thing you were here, Spike. And I never thought I'd hear myself say that." He looked over to acknowledge Spike, who nodded his understanding.
"Yeah, well, it's about damn time someone said it. As I've been hear for over a year. You lot are so ungrateful..." His voice trailed off as he watched Dawn and Buffy.
"Buffy, we need to figure this out." Dawn said. "This weakening is not normal. I mean, outside your turning 18 and being drugged. Maybe Giles knows something. But this can't happen to you any more."
Spike was stunned. "Any more? You mean it's happened before?" Dawn, Buffy and Xander just looked at him. "Oh great. Wonderful. You lot and communication? Never the twain should meet, eh?"
Xander stalled him with an upheld hand. "Alright Captain Peroxide," the insult held little sting, "I just found about it 15 minutes ago, so don't lump me in with the 'lot', k? Besides, I'm with you about the needing to tell people what is going on."
"Alright, Harris, fine." Spike turned to Buffy and Dawn. "So just when were you two going to tell me that the Slayer's powers were draining? Hmmm? When I found her dead" he choked out the word, "in the cemetery next to a freshly climbed out of grave?? His frustration mounted, reflected in the increased volume of his voice. "When were you going to tell me?
"When we knew what was causing it, Spike. We have no idea what is going on." This from Buffy, her voice returning to its regular commanding tone. "Besides, this particular incident is over." She demonstrated by breaking the branch over her thigh. "See? Back to my old self again. I'll be twisting the pickle jar lid into outer space tonight, I'm tellin ya." She laughed a little, then grew serious again. "But you are right, Spike. We need to find out what is going on."
"I believe I can help with this." The new voice belonged to Dylan, who stepped out of the trees.