Tell Her Tonight
A/N: The song is Tell her Tonight, by Franz Ferdinand, who are amazing. Listen to their CDs. The second song in 'Stupid Thing' by Nickel, and, yes, it is the 'School Hard' song. They are pathetic attempts to make the chapter longer so I can get it up by ever but leave me alone! Except not in a review way… please review! And thanks to those of you who did! And I'm sorry this chapter took so long, life's been funky. I've decided to give writing Spike's accent a try, if it sucks, tell me and I'll stop. This chapter is also of the sucky, but hey, it's posted, right?
When Spike- actually, I still called him William then- was sixteen he lost his virginity to Drusilla, I had known about it, and I had asked him to come tell me what sex was like. He brought a carton of cigarettes- I was smoking then- but I quit, unlike some I could name.
Cough Spike Cough.
Anyway, we talked about it, and I asked him if she hadn't wanted him to stay. He told me that I was his first girl, always would be.
Did he know then what we would be in the end? What he started that night? Did I know? Did I want to know? Would I have stopped it?
Maybe. Maybe. Sort of. No. Yes.
I would have stopped the world to keep things just the same as they were in that moment, me in my flannel pyjamas, Spike in leather with newly-bleached hair and the smell of tobacco. Maybe that's why they don't let us know the future. We might change it.
Buffy took the drink from Spike's hands and took a sip.
"Coke, no rum, as requested. And may I mention, you're absolutely no fun," Spike said, settling down next to her with his beer.
"You, William Giles, have a reputation, you know," Buffy said, darkly, grinning at him, "get a girl drunk and take her to bed."
"You have one too, Elizabeth Summers, cold as ice."
"You take that back!" Buffy said, taking her drink and holding it threateningly over his head. They had spent half-an-hour talking about Angel and Giles, and a few minutes devoted to Riley, before both deciding they wanted tonight to be about having fun.
"Fine, fine, you're a slut. Happy?"
"Better," she laughed, "you know what I've just realized?"
"No, pet, sure it's nothing I don' know already," Spike said, revelling in the easy banter and the sound of
her laugh.
"I'm single."
"And a bloody blessing it is," Spike said, noticeable venom in his voice.
"And…"
"And what?"
"It's been a while since I've had a fling."
"Oh, has it, then?" Spike said, clenching his hand around his beer.
"Yup, it has."
"So, you've decided that since you can' judge someone after a year you'll just spend a few weeks screwing some bastard senseless?" Spike said, jealousy and possessiveness making him angry.
"Spike," Buffy said, laying a flat on top of his on the table, "calm down. I was kidding… well, sort of. And,
you're supposed to be the badass friend who makes me get into trouble and do drugs and stuff."
"Thought the castin' call was for a dashingly handsome Englishman to provide sarcastic retorts and sex appeal," he said, smirking.
"Sex appeal? With that hair?" She teased, "you've got to stop bleaching it, you know. It'll all fall out
before you turn thirty."
"No, it won'."
"Denial."
"Well, yeah, but lemme enjoy it, huh?" Buffy laughed and Spike took the moment to appreciate the way
her eyes closed ever so slightly when she laughed and her cheeks dimpled in the most adorable places.
"Wigs are very in right now."
"I remember when you were sweet and reserved," Spike muttered under his breath, just before being assaulted by a gangly teen with long brown hair, who swung her arms around his neck, nearly strangling
him.
"You've been home how long and you didn't come see me?" Dawn, now sixteen, said as Spike eased out from her arms to turn to look at her.
"Um… a day. And since when do you go to the Bronze?" Spike responded, he hadn't seen Dawn when he'd been home for Christmas six months ago and was shocked that apparently puberty had come and gone without bothering to tell him. "And, where's the other half of your shirt?"
"You're right, he is turning into Giles," Dawn said to her sister, "and since always. If you ever came home you'd know that."
"Since always, huh?" Spike asked, "suppose you're to old t' put on my lap, so why don' you go fetch a chair." Dawn, looked at him, clinically.
"I think I'm taller than you now, but you're still the guy. You go get my chair."
"Dawn!" Buffy chastised.
"What? It's Spike, he's like family," Dawn said, "you don't mind, do you?"
"You're the naggin', screechin', whinin' brat of a sister I always dreamt of. But you're getting your own damn chair. And you're not taller than me."
"Am too."
"Are not."
"Am-"
"Dawn, stop nagging. Spike, either be a gentleman or get crushed by her," Buffy said, feeling very much like she was dealing with oversized toddlers.
"We'd better behave, Nibblet, or she'll send us to bed without dessert," Spike said feigning terror and a
wide-eyed look of boyish innocence, that, for some inexplicable reason, made Buffy's stomach do some pretty amazing gymnastics.
"You know, she might not be able to, but I can," said a British voice from behind Spike, who immediately whirled around and looked at his father and brother, slack jawed.
"Dear God, Da, I didn' even know you knew about the… or that you… um… I," Spike stuttered, to Buffy and Dawn's obvious enjoyment. Even though, both had to admit, they'd never before seen anything quite
as incongruous as Giles at the Bronze.
"Breathe, Will," Angel advised calmly. "Hi, Buffy, I'm sorry about what I said today it was…" he trailed off.
"I know, you didn't mean it," Buffy grinned, "I like the new look," she gestured to Angel's black and grey clothing and leather jacket.
"Yeah, you look good, Lee," Spike said, grinning as his brother cringed hearing the childhood nickname, it was payback for the 'Will'.
"You know, I gave you both perfectly acceptable names and I don't see why-"
"'ve got to go," Spike said, cutting of his father's lecture, "still want t' come up on stage, pet?"
"You promised," Buffy said, "and you heard what he said about the dessert."
"Great, gimme a couple songs to get warmed up and 'll go. Oh, and when Harris and his demon girl get here, tell her I'm not wearin' the soddin' t-shirt. Ever," Spike vacated his seat, bowing to Dawn and kissing her absentmindedly on the cheek as he slid backstage.
Two songs later, Anya and Xander were there, Anya was fuming after Buffy had explained that Spike wouldn't wear Anya's store's logo on stage, ever, no matter how close they were, a sweaty Oz who was still on a caffeine/sort-of-mosh-pit high was tickling Willow, who was on his lap. Buffy was idly talking to Angel about what going to college was like and if she thought he could ever take night classes, and Giles was telling Dawn to pull up her marks and stop 'slacking off', Dawn was reminding him once more that he was the father of Spike, who was the king of all slackers back in high school.
"He's a genetic mutation," Giles grumbled, right before Spike started talking into the microphone on stage.
"'ll do absolutely anything to be seen in public fondlin' a beautiful woman, includin' seducin' girls with fame" Spike said, trademark smirk firmly in place, "so, in the interest of me gettin' some, can I bring Goldilocks up on stage?" Spike gestured to Buffy, who grinned and bounced out of her seat, "oh, and Rupes? I'm a grown-up now, you can' ground me for that." Spike smirked and wound his arm around Buffy waist, pulling her close to him so he could whisper in her ear. "You reckon he'll try anyway?"
"You know it," she grinned, "and there isn't going to be any fondling."
"How about oglin', can I ogle? 'Cause I'll feel very left out if I'm the only guy over two and under a hundred and two not lookin' you in the ches'," Spike said, completely straight-faced.
"No ogling, no groping, no fondling, just dancing," Buffy said, "speaking of?"
"Oh, right, stage, mike," Spike said. Nodding to Clem, his guitarist, they started the fast song.
I only watched her walk, but she saw it
I only heard her talk, but she saw it
I only touched her lips but she saw it
I only kissed her lips, but she saw it
Spike and Buffy put on a show, full with one of Spike's barely steady fingers tracing Buffy's lips as she swung her hips outrageously. Spike was taken aback, not for the first time, at how easy it was for her to go from girl next door to seductress in ten seconds flat.
As Spike's warm finger traced the outer edges of her lip, Buffy could hardly restrain the sudden urge to take it into her mouth, and then follow it by attaching herself firmly to it's owners lips. Maybe she had a concussion or something, or maybe those eyes… God, just looking into his eyes seemed to have sudden almost hypnotic qualities. It wasn't as if she'd never noticed them before, but somehow as he sang this song, the tones of azure seemed to shift around and demand all her attention.
Gonna have to tell her tonight
She only flicked her eyes, but I saw it
She only swung her hair, but I saw it
She only shook her hips, but I saw it
She only licked her lips, but I saw it
Gonna have to tell her tonight
Spike watched as she got into it, shaking her hips, moving her eyes exaggeratedly, playing with him and every other man watching for all she was worth. Which, he thought, as she whipped her neck and her soft blonde hair slid past his hand, was definitely a lot. Then she licked her lips and he was gone, totally and completely lost in her eyes and surprised to find he was still singing and moving along with her apparently without the benefit of his mind. He shocked himself as he put his hands on her hips as they swayed steadying them, and almost fainted as she took a sharp breath.
Hey, I'll have to tell her, you tell her tonight, yeah
I'll have to tell her, tell her tonight, yeah
I'll have to tell her, to tell her tonight, yeah
I'll have to tell her, to tell her tonight
I only held her hand, but she saw it
I only watched her walk, but she saw it
I only touched her neck but she saw it
I only kissed her lips, but she saw it
Gonna have to tell her tonight
As Spike's fingertips ran down the column of Buffy's neck, all of the reasons why she couldn't be with Spike fled out of her mind, quickly vanishing leaving something… other behind. It's sounds ludicrous, but it was, it was in that instant, that song, that at least five years of restraints fell quickly away, leaving behind the sensation that something had been gained.
Hey, I'll have to tell her, you tell her tonight, yeah
Hey, I'll have to tell her, you tell her tonight, yeah
You have to tell her, you tell her tonight, oh yeah
Buffy grinned at Spike as he pulled away and began a spiel into the next song, trying to ignore the feeling in her stomach at losing contact with him. As she stepped offstage to the relieved sighs of several girls with only a kiss on the cheek that she could feel burning for hours afterwards, she wanted to still be touching him. It was a weird feeling, definitely new and defiantly prominent in her thoughts as she sat down next to Anya, who she shouldn't have expected to be helpful.
"You two look good together. You should exchange orgasms."
"Ahn…" Xander said, resting his head in his hands. Buffy just grinned at both of them.
"It's alright, Xan, she just says what she means," Buffy said, mentally wondering why Anya had to pick now of all times to make one of her subtle-like-an-elephant-doing-the-cancan-in-your-shower matchmaking attempts.
"See, I've been telling you that if you all stopped-"
"Let's dance, huh?" Xander said, pulling on Anya's hand, quickly and effectively cutting her off. Buffy giggled into her hand as they left. They were an absolutely adorable couple, and completely devoted to one another. Even if she doubted Anya had admitted to herself that it wasn't just about the sex yet.
"You know," Giles said, as he sat in Anya's abandoned seat, "never tell him I said this. But Spike's not half-bad at what he does."
"He's good at it," Buffy agreed, "and he loves it."
"That he does. Are you alright, I know that this afternoon was…"
"Not something I'm going to bring up tonight. Emotions were running high," Buffy said, and Giles understood her meaning. He had known that the first thing his son would do was run to Buffy for advice after the highly charged conversation with him.
"Yes," Giles agreed, and he decided that now would be an excellent time to change the topic. "So, how are you doing in your psych course, I know you were struggling…"
Buffy quickly found herself lost in the mundane conversation about her psych class, and her thoughts returned to Spike, who was now winding down with a couple of slow songs. She could admit that during that dance she'd felt more lust than she had in a long time. It hadn't been about emotions, it had been about sex. But then, at the end, when he was looking into her eyes and touching her… there had been a feeling she wasn't used to. It felt like she wanted to possess him, but at the same time wanted to be his possession. To hold and be held in return.
Dear God, she was turning into a romance novel. And it had always been her private suspicion that those couples were happy for about six months, and then realized they had nothing in common except for lust and interlocking body parts.
Though, a rebellious part of her mind hinted, insistently, she had a great deal in common with Spike. Not only the things that had originally brought them together, but shared tastes that had grown from their years of friendship. There was no one else who would eat pickles dipped in peanut butter with her, or watch Clueless for the thirty-fourth time simply to make fun of it. More similar thoughts followed. Buffy tried, at first, to fight them off, combating them with one of the thousand reasons they couldn't work, but suddenly, her resolve tired out, and she let herself fantasize. Pretending that it was only that.
"Dance with me?" Angel asked, "seeing as my oaf of a brother has finally left you alone?" Buffy grinned, looking over at where Spike was deep in conversation with Oz and Xander, they had declared a few minutes ago that it was guy time, and left she, Willow, Anya, Giles and Angel without their company to settle in a corner.
"Sure," Buffy said, deciding the fast song was alright for a dance with Angel, he seemed fine, but she knew from experience that that didn't guarantee anything five minutes from now. She made eye contact with Spike before getting up to dance with his brother, wondering if she'd just imagined the clenching of his jaw. She decided, finally, that she had, but that was mostly to prevent herself from going completely insane.
"You know, I've always wondered why you and my brother never had a thing," Angel said as they moved to the center of the dance floor together.
"Me? And Spike? You've got to be kidding me," Buffy laughed, "we'd spend half our time arguing and the other half making out. You know your brother and his women."
"Yeah, Spike and his girls. But, I don't know, I just always kind of thought that there'd by Drusilla and then he'd get over that and then he'd come to his senses and get together with you."
"Come to his senses? Spike has senses?"
"Smell, touch, taste, sight, hearing. All of the above in fact, plus, I mean, any guy looking at you and not slobbering has got to be gay or something. Any guy looking at you for hours every day and not on his knees begging for just one date is quite obviously blind, deaf and most probably mute as well."
"Flirt," she accused lightly, "you're both like brothers to me, it's kind of gross to think about it. And we both know Spike's anything but mute."
"Yeah, well, no one ever said he wasn't short a couple boxes of crayons," Angel replied cheerfully, "and, also, he really wants to dance with you. So, here you go." Angel took her hand and spun her into his brother's waiting arms.
"Thanks mate, an' stop puttin' ideas in the bint's head, 'f it were up to you and Da, you'd have had me married off when I was eighteen."
"I'm not saying marriage, I'm saying sex."
"Liam Robert Giles!" Buffy said.
"Angel!" Spike burst out at the same time. "Da'll wash your mouth with soap if I tell him you said that."
"We're adults now, Will."
"Oh, we may be, Angel, but the judges are still out on him. " Buffy said, as Spike took her in his arms and started spinning her, Angel, with a satisfied grin, turned away, walking away to sit with his father.
I'm one step away from crashing to my knees.
One step away from spilling my guts to you.
I
did a stupid thing last night,
I called you.
I'm doing all right.
No, don't feel sorry for me,
Really, I'm all right.
I'm one step away
from crashing to my knees.
One step away from spilling my guts to you.
You see, there's this huge chunk of me missing.
It's gone.
And I can' feel it, I can't feel it,
I can't feel.
As the song began to wind down, Spike and Buffy got less passionate in there dancing, and reverted to slowly dancing, close together, talking.
"'T's a horrible move, blondie, but 't's got a good ending," Spike admitted.
"You cannot diss Win a Date With Tad Hamilton," she said. "And what's so good about the ending that it earns your approval?"
"Oh, yes I bloody well can. And 't's got a good kiss, makes it almost worthwhile to sit through the rest of
the bloody drivel."
"Romantic," she accused.
"And you aren'?"
"I'm a girl, doesn't count as much."
"Sexist."
"Maybe, but am I sexy?" She teased.
"Oh, now there's a question with no right answer."
"You mean I'm not? Spikey, you wound me with your words," Buffy mocked him. Spike would never quite know what had compelled him to do what he did next, maybe it was being so close to her in the first place, maybe it was just all they flirting they'd been doing since they were fourteen finally working it's magic. Or, perhaps, as with so many other things, it was just time for it to happen.
"Course you are, Princess," he said, bringing his head that much closer to hers to whisper it in her ear, and both of them were certain that she made the final move of connecting their lips. To her, thinking about it, it just seemed the natural thing to do.
And, God, did it feel like it, his lips were firm but soft, warm moving under hers as his tongue moved slowly against her lips, teasing her. It felt like the most wonderful thing in the world to let this man in, to wrap her arms around his neck and press herself into him, tilt her head only slightly upwards instead of the usual ninety-degree angle for Riley. She closed her eyes and leant farther into him, allowing him to support her and letting her own tongue come out to play, and she smiled into the kiss when he shyly entered her mouth.
Spike, on the other hand, felt something so strange that it took him a minute to recognize it. It had been so long since he'd kissed someone without it being a prelude to something else, if he had ever done that. He felt tenderness, love, adoration and the need to hold this woman and never let her go. At the same time, he felt like a schoolboy who had no clue what he was doing with the most popular girl in the class. It took him a bit longer than it normally would have to get his arms around her waist and start kissing her in earnest.
Buffy was the first to pull back for air, and she found herself looking slightly upwards as she tried to regain her breath and watched Spike do the same thing.
"Christ, Goldilocks…" he managed. "What'd you go an' do that for?"
"You didn't…" Buffy said, slightly unsure, and only not turning away from him because of the death grip he still had around her waist as the next song, a slow one, started.
"Like it? Loved it. You have no idea-"
"Will!" Spike turned just in time to see his brother barrelling towards him as his father, in pursuit called out. Recognizing the look in Angel's eyes, he quickly shoved Buffy behind him.
"You don' wanna do this, Lee," he said. He knew that if it came down to it, he could have his brother restrained in a matter of seconds, but sometimes he could talk him down when he had these attacks
"You can't have the sunshine, William," the taller man hissed back at him. "Not always you. The stars say
it isn't always you. The sunshine was never yours, no, a man cursed-" And that's when Giles and the syringe arrived.
Within a few minutes, Angel was out and on his way to the hospital to be monitored after being given the sedative that his father always carried around in case he got violent, Buffy came from where she'd retreated to the bathroom to see Spike just as the ambulance was leaving and he was promising to follow in a minute or two.
"Hey," she said, shyly, even though she'd decided to simply ignore the kiss, and even if she was going to think about it, blame it on the atmosphere of the moment. And maybe a bit of stress from what had happened with Riley that afternoon. "I should go, but I just wanted to check you were OK. I've got to, um, take Dawn home, because she's sixteen and can't drive and Giles drove her. And then I've got a class in the morning so I really want to go to the hospital, but then, it's not really my business and-"
"Babblin', love."
"Oh, sorry, it's just the, uh-"
"I know. 'll be fine and so'll Peaches," he turned to her, "but about before Angel-"
"Buffster, you coming or what?" Xander called from across the parking lot. Buffy had never been more
thankful for the existence of one person in her lifetime.
"I'll call you after class, OK? We could do lunch, or, um, something. A thing, yeah. We could do a thing."
"A thing sounds good. Round elevinish?"
"Yeah. A thing. Around eleven. A brunch sort of thing. But you'll be OK?"
"Yeah, hell, 've got a whole brunch sort of thing t' look forward to," Spike replied, summoning a smile from somewhere. "Tell the bit 'll take her out for ice cream."
"Yeah, you, Dawn, ice cream. Got it."
"Bye, pet."
"Bye," she said, and turned before he could kiss her on the cheek.
Spike felt an odd sort of wrenching as she turned. He'd been so close. So damned close to her. In the way he'd wanted to be since he could remember and his idiot of a brother had picked that precise moment to-
He took a deep breath and fumbled in his pocket for his lighter and a cigarette pulling one out as he made his way over to his car and puffing until he felt much calmer. Only then did he allow his mind to wander back to the kiss, it hadn't been monumental, it hadn't changed his life. If anything, it had made his life more the same, had made the fact that he was in love with her just that much more present in his mind. And, oh, Christ, had it made him want her all the more but…
Plus sa change, plus sa reste le meme.
The more things change, the more they stay the same. He loved her, had loved her for what seemed like forever. He wanted her and had since puberty. All that had changed was the maudlin sense of desperation that had always gone hand-in-hand with his feelings for the blonde. Instead there was a sense of something he couldn't quite call hope, just a chance.
Yeah, that was it a chance. And his bloody, buggering oaf of a brother-
Spike threw his cigarette out the window rather harder than he had to, and roared out of the parking lot of the Bronze, seething.
Normally, after an attack like that when his meds stopped working, Angel was sedated enough to be seeing bunnies for hours afterwards, so it wasn't until almost three in the morning that he was awake enough to have a conversation. Giles had gone home an hour before, to his younger sons promise that he'd phone every hour on the hour and get some sleep, so Spike was left alone in the hospital room with a People magazine and his comatose brother, still going back and forth between enraged, depressed, and worrying about Angel.
"Time?" Angel croaked from the bed.
"Three in the bloody buggerin' mornin'."
"You're pissed."
"A li'l bit, yeah."
"Where's Dad?"
"Home, decided it was a better place for the heart attack you were givin' him."
"We were at the Bronze, right?"
"Yeah," Spike replied, edging away from the subject and getting up to buzz one of the nurses from the button beside his brother's bed, but Angel, not to be deterred, caught his wrist in one hand.
"You an Buffy- you kissed- and then I-" he pause, as if to think what he had done, "oh, shit, sorry."
"Wasn' you."
"I know, but still, I shouldn't have gone, not when I do stuff-"
"It wasn' your fault and you know it. Look, 'm jus' a bit brassed 'cause I was kissin' a beautiful girl an' I got interrupted. An' 'm tired. An' Buffy's gone all odd on me now. Did us a favour, breakin' us up, would've said some things I couldn'a taken back come mornin'."
"You wouldn't have, though," Angel interjected, "anyone can see how you look at her, Spike. And if I hadn't, you two might have-"
"No matter what happened she would've taken it back the next day," Spike said. "An' it was a one-off of a kiss anyway, bloody amazin', but she's a tirin' lady an' she's my friend."
"She's Buffy, not your friend."
"The difference bein'?" Spike said, settling beside his brother, knowing well that when he got this determined about something, it was either hear him out or resort to physical force.
"Most of your friends your not in love with."
"'m not in love with her."
"Yeah, and I'm sane. You're saying that if she came up to you and kissed you again, you'd do nothing?"
"'m sayin' that Goldie's my friend an' 'm not losin' her as that. An', 'm also sayin' if you fancy any chance of ride home, you'd better get to whatever sort of point you've got hidden in all this rot."
"Look, Spike, I wrecked your first kiss-"
"That wasn' you."
"No, but I'm still taking the blame. Just, let me try to fix it, OK? I know you love her, hell, everyone knows you love her. Everyone who knows Buffy is a little bit in love with her. And I know she feels something for you, I don't know what it is, but you can see it, when she doesn't know that anyone's watching her, she looks at you like, I don't know, like she's hungry or something."
"Hungry?"
"I'm not good at metaphors. Like she wants something, I don't know, like she wants something, and she knows what, but she can't get any. Or doesn't know where they sell it, or something. And when you look at her- you're like a romance novel or something, you adore her, and everyone but Buffy knows it," Angel looked his brother firmly in the eyes, "and she should know," then, apparently pleased that he'd said everything he needed to, "you should call the nurse now."
"You-I-Liam!" Spike spluttered, "you can say something that bloody- cheeky comes to mind- insightful and then-"
"Yeah, take me home. And, again, I'm really sorry."
"You know, we're gonna have a long talk about your meds and lookin' a' homes tomorrow," Spike said suddenly serious, moving from his love life to Angel's life.
"I know, I don't want to talk about it, OK? My head's still kind of swirling."
"Oh, joy, insights from the drugged now. Bloody fabulous, Peaches."
Buffy came into the dorm tired and wanting absolutely nothing more than to collapse on her bed and either die or sleep for a very, very long time. She'd been met at her father's house by an irate father, who had demanded to know why she was off 'gallivanting' with her sister at such late hours with 'that crowd', and then had pulled her aside to talk about Dawn's dating life for half an hour.
"You kissed him!" Willow crowed from her bed.
Buffy had a horrible feeling she wouldn't be sleeping for a very long time.
"I keep on saying you should exchange orgasms," Anya added, from where she was sitting on the windowsill.
She had a very sudden urge to cry.
"Spill!" Willow demanded.
"There was music, and darkness, and touching, and then there was kissage. Then Angel had one of his moments, attacked us, Spike followed him to the hospital, I went home. It was nothing," Buffy said, "can I sleep?"
"Nothing?" Anya spluttered, looking down at her nail file, and then back up at Buffy, "nothing? You kissed William Giles,William Has-Loved-You-For-Ever-And-A-Day-And-Also-Happens-To-Be-Sex-On-A-Stick Giles and all you're saying this was nothing."
"Spike's not in love with me, I just broke up with Riley, I don't got for the bad boy thing, and I'm very, very tired," Buffy said, ticking them off on her fingers. "It was just a kiss. We're not in junior high any more."
"It wasn't just a kiss," Willow said, "you don't 'just kiss' like that. Not with the tongues, and the naughty hands, and the sighs and the stuff."
"There was no naughty touching," Buffy said, turning resignedly to her closet and pulling out a pair of pyjama bottoms and a tank top.
"You were thinking it," Willow accused, "you were thinking hands all over the place, and was I the only one who saw Spike making some adjustments?"
"I saw," Anya said, raising her hand cheerfully, "and this denial thing's getting old. Buffy, if you can't see what's right in front of you, break his heart and get it over with so the rest of us can have him. Not that I want him, I've got Xander. But I know girls, and a couple men, who would really, really, like him," Buffy didn't dignify that with a response, instead choosing to put her pyjamas on and get in bed, hoping that her friends would go away if she just tried hair enough to imagine them away.
"I know, even Spike's out of denial. And he's stubborn," Willow threw in.
"And they'd make an adorable couple. Oh, and, Buffy? Stop ignoring us," the only response Anya got was a grunt from beneath a sizeable pile of pillows and blanket that Buffy had somehow got herself under. "I know you're all emotionally repressed, but he's a sweet guy, and he's not as stupid as most of them. So, maybe you should get off your hurting high horse and look at what you've got."
"What?" Buffy said, sitting up and looking at Anya, "I am not on a 'hurting high horse' I'm just, taking care. Of me."
"Yeah, well, you're doing a great job at picking them so far," Anya spat back, "and then there's the perfect man, just sitting there, waiting for you, and what do you do? 'He's my friend, I couldn't,'" She raised her voice several octaves and fluttered her lashes.
"He is my friend," Buffy claimed, "my best friend, I don't want to lose him."
"You're not doing any favours by holding him at arms length, he wants you, he loves you, you want him. Why can't you just jump? He's the type who'll catch you," Anya said.
"What is this, Some sort of intervention?" Buffy asked, turning on Willow, "'cause I can handle my very own life, thanks all the same."
"It's not an intervention it's a-a," Willow stuttered, "yeah, it's kind of intervention-y. Anya's right, you obviously can't see Spike for what he is, so m-maybe someone needs to t-tell you before you go and spoil something that could have been great."
"It could also suck royally," Buffy said.
"But it wouldn't," Anya replied, "and, you'll never know. Do you want to end up sort of happy, watching him move on to another girl and be sort of happy, and know that you could have been all the way happy- not to mention getting happies- the whole time."
"I also don't want to be unhappy without Spike," Buffy replied, "I'm not sure that I'd," she paused. "How is this any of your business again?"
"We care about you, a-and Spike," Willow said, "and w-we want you two to get your acts together, literally."
"Will, you know that I couldn't-" Buffy said, softly, turning to look at her closest female friend.
"Oh, you could, you just won't. There's a big difference," Willow explained. "And you should, you know."
"Should I?"
"Yes, and if you're going to keep playing the denial game, Xand's probably waiting for me by now, so, bye," Anya said, leaving. "And, again, Buffy. You, Spike, happies. Or I'll get grouchy." Buffy and Willow both watched her leave before speaking again.
"I know it's going to be scary," Willow said, turning to her blonde friend, "and probably really hard. But I just think that it fits, y'know? I mean, sometimes, with people, you just sort of know that it's supposed too happen. And you, and Spike, it feels like a supposed too. And maybe we're all wrong, but do you want to miss your supposed too person? Do you want to miss the long haul guy? I'm not going to nag any more- 'cause, with the nagging, mostly Anya, right? But, just, think about it, ok?"
"Yeah," Buffy said, quietly, "I'll think."
Before her, I thought for a long time that I could do anything with willpower. But, God, no matter how long I tried, or how hard, I couldn't rip myself away from that little girl. Watching her sometimes, even now, it's hard to stop. Hard not to reach out and hold her.
It was harder then.
Christ, so much harder then.
But I tried, really hard, and I think it paid off. The waiting, I mean. We weren't built to be some perfect first love, we were built to fight, screw, cry, smile and love together. We were meant to live together, for the rest of our lives, that's what we were built for.
