Friends (Or More)
By Sweetprincipale
Author's Note: I made this a PG-13 Fic. There's going to have to be a sequel, isn't there? (Or I have to up the rating.)
Author's Second Note: David Bowie's Moonage Daydream is used. I recommend you listen to it during the pertinent scene.
Dedicated to: All4Spike, Green, magnus374, kats_meow, pfeifferpack, FancyFlautist, Connie_3D, Fluffypuppy, Lou, HebiC, fizzy, Chosenname, Elianne, and all the awesome readers who like this little story! Thank you for kind reviews and encouragement.)
Part IX
Buffy knew something had gone completely wrong when she opened the door to the dorm room. Mildly coping Willow was gone, devastated Willow was back, sobbing on her bed, laying in a nest of pillows and wadded up tissues.
"Oz's stuff is gone. He's really gone. I guess he's planning to settle down… someplace that's not here. Devon didn't know where, didn't even say that Oz came by, just sent for all of his stuff. I feel like I'm split in two and half of me is missing! God, Buffy, how did you stand it?"
Buffy dropped all of her things unceremoniously in a heap on her bed and crawled over to Willow, pulling her best friend into her arms as the tears kept coming.
"I don't know. Everyone's situation is different. I can't-" I can't believe he did this to her. For reasons I must not know about, because they seemed so happy until just a few weeks ago. Then only mildly troubled, maybe a little bit discontent, a little bit questioning. With Angel… I didn't want to believe it would end in failure. But I had a couple warning signs. "It hurts so bad, Will. It does get better, but I'm not going to lie. You have to go through the pain for a long time. The bigger the love, the longer the pain," Buffy whispered.
Wow. That means Spike's going to have a very large amount of pain. Is having. And will be having. Decades worth.
And he put himself through that for me.
No, not just for me. Me-adjacent. Her heart floated in an unguarded, joyful way that made her uneasy, and that she disliked, especially while holding a lovelorn bestie.
"I don't want to go through the pain! I don't deserve it!"
"No one does."
"Well, no, I know that but- we were okay! And he left without talking to me, just told me it was his choice. He gets all the power and I get all the pain!" Willow's sobbing voice now held an angry current.
"Willow, I know he loved you- loves you still! I'm sure he's hurting. He must think it's the only way. But I know that doesn't make it hurt any less. Not even a little," Buffy whispered.
"I- I can't keep feeling this way," Willow hissed, then bolted off the bed, rushing to the bathroom.
Buffy paced as she heard sounds of sobbing that turned to dry heaving noises and running water. Now was not the time to bring up the fact that she and Spike were considering - well, actually had moved from friends to undefined "something beyond friends."
Willow emerged, red plaid jammies rumpled and more wet looking at the collar, her pink face and puffy eyes damp and cool to the touch from the water she'd splashed on her face. "I c-can't even try to get him back."
Buffy held her and they rocked in a hug. She wasn't sure what else to say, so she made soothing shushing sounds. "We could try to track him down. There has to be a way. He didn't disappear. It might take a few days. Or weeks."
"I don't want to have to hurt like this!" Willow's grief turned to another sharp spark of anger. "It's not fair that I can't even talk it out with him. This was so- shitty!"
Buffy winced and nodded. "I know the feeling. The not talking. The him doing all the deciding. The leaving. I will say one thing though. Angel kept coming back. He'd tell me it was hurting him, it was hard, and then boom, he'd leave. Back again and leave again. A yo-yo of the sadistic kind. I know we needed the help, but I so did not need the megaton of pain. At least Oz isn't torturing you with the sight of what you can't have, what he won't give you."
"You think that's better?" Willow shrilled. "If he was here, there would be a chance!"
Oh, but with me, there wasn't? I guess not. Different types of guys, different consequences. "Sorry," Buffy whispered. Willow seemed too caught up to care about the apology. "What can I do?"
"Be here?"
"I don't leave." Other people leave me. I don't leave them.
He came to study. He brought Willow a bottle of something unlabeled that made her puke instantly.
She wouldn't leave her best friend unless someone else was watching over her. It was part of the promise. It was something that some other guys would mind.
Spike didn't. "I liked that you didn't leave when it got hard. Red's heartache is hard. You got real loyalty, and to me, that's damn sexy," Spike whispered.
It was a stolen moment, the first in several days where she came to his crypt. "This place looks better now. Did you get a rug?"
"And the lamp. And cleared some clutter. Got a footstool. Not a proper second chair, but it'll do. Got a radio and the telly's antenna is slightly less busted than previously."
"It's like an undead day spa," Buffy teased, smiling for the first time in days. "Ow."
"What?"
"My cheek pulled a muscle. I haven't smiled around Willow. I can't. She can't. Even when you come over, we're all mopey and silent. But you make me smile on the inside- and now I can show it on the outside."
"Good. An' I'm sorry to do this, Luv, but there's a real serious matter we need to address."
"Oh man, I never even asked if patrol's been okay! More guys with tasers? Vampire gangs? Slime monsters?"
"Kissing."
"Kissing monsters?"
"D'you consider me a monster just now?" Spike raised one eyebrow.
"Uh- no," Buffy felt her lungs lose oxygen. Eyes lost hard focus, everything was suddenly soft and dreamy, except the hard angles of his beautifully sculpted face.
"I've got a backlog of kisses, don't you remember? They were accruin' interest at a shocking rate, and we said we'd take out a few hours worth at a time. Barely stole two kisses a night in the last few days. I must be up into the thousands, Slayer."
"Oh…" Buffy blushed. "Kiss away."
"I'll do that," Spike grinned.
"We- were going to- go on - dates. Date-like outings," Buffy gasped, her hands in his hair, his lips all over her neck.
"I know. I want to. I want you."
Her insides twisted and pulled, wanting him, too. It was the first time he'd said it like that, with all of him enveloping her, mouths plundering and - "I want you, too."
Should they freeze? He debated. No. It wouldn't hurt to kiss her sweet face, her beautiful smile that he restored. Kissing removed the pain. Dulled the ache. Later it would swell into a raging inferno- and of course there was some sexual metaphor there. He burned when he moved against her.
She moaned, and he grunted, and her head bowed, pulling away for a second. "I need to slay something."
"Present company excluded?"
"Very excluded." Another round of ravenous kisses. This time his head jerked back, eyes wide. "What?" she asked startled.
She doesn't know. Doesn't know that I can smell the arousal on her. Something deeper than pheromones, this is the actual essence of her. All kinds of lustful thoughts raced through his brain. I don't know if I ought to tell her. 'Specially not after the 'slaying' comment. "Thinkin'," he replied truthfully. "We can take a sweep. Think it might be too late for dancin' at a club and I don't fancy treatin' you to another bag of questionable pretzels from Willy's. We could try out the radio in a bit."
"Sounds good." She pretended not to watch the pained way he walked. Pretended that when they kissed, she couldn't feel something hard hitting her waist and hips, and that there wasn't dampness- more than dampness between said hips.
We said we wouldn't push. This is very non-pushy.
God, I want to push.
The large bathroom on her floor was finally deserted, showers empty. Buffy was patrolling, Xander had been persuaded by Anya to leave, helped along by her own false reassurances that she was tired and would go straight to bed.
Willow sat within a ring of candles. Herbs. Incense. Goblet. Bowl. Now, for the end of pain. Alcohol and time and friends weren't cutting it. "Harken all ye elements, I summon thee now." Herbs dropped into the bowl from cold, slightly shaking fingers. "Control the outside, control within. Land and sea, fire and wind. Out of my passions, a web be spun. From this eve forth, my will be done. So mote it be." The candles' flames flew sky high and then went out.
"I will all this stuff to clean itself up."
Nothing.
"Damn."
"Dinner and dancing."
"I'm not sure that what you ate counts as food. Those nuggets might be rubber. Half expected 'em to bounce." Spike tossed his plastic baggie of nuked blood away and she tossed her now empty carton of deep-fried chicken bits in after it.
"I lived on peanut butter and juice for days during apocalypse season." Buffy shrugged. "I can't spend the night. Willow-"
"No worries. But, I'd say I'm in serious danger of debt collectors breakin' my thumbs if you don't let me get in another hour's worth of work on my outstandin' balance," he purred beside her, lips quirking comically, but with hints of lust in his eyes.
"I'm the only debt collector here. I don't want anyone else kissing you. Or kissing me."
He snarled in a way that spoke of instincts deep inside of him, the ones that cried for mating and biting, something hot and raw and possessive. He settled for possessing her lips, grabbing her as she eagerly reciprocated, back against the exterior of his crypt. "Only one you want is me?"
"Uh-huh." Buffy gulped for air between kisses.
"Only me for you," he reassured, diving right back in, hands in her hair and in the collar of her coat.
"Inside, now." Buffy belatedly realized making out in public, especially the kind of public who might wander graveyards, was a bad plan if you didn't want to get attacked while distracted.
"Inside?" Spike pulled back, eyes startled, but not anxious. Only her for me. Me for her. Never, ever had that. Ever. Wanna show her how much I love that. How much I l-. Well, that might be the case one day. "All right, Luv."
She tapped the door of Spike's home. "Inside here." Buffy bit her lip, understanding the confusion she'd unwittingly caused.
He nodded, but his face wasn't disappointed as they hurried inside. "I didn't have that. Ever. Never a woman who didn't want- at least some of the time- or was open to- others." Spike stumbled over a confession. He hated admitting that, not only because it cast a shadow on him, but it cast aspersions on Dru, and reminded him of how terribly Angelus' had shaped her in his image. And Buffy's 'other' would be Angel. Same as Dru's. The irony wasn't even slightly humorous to him. "What if Angel came back- wanted to give you that bit of normal?"
Buffy hated that thought. No, there was a moment of pure joy in it, and then it sickened her, because she'd had that identical game of "What if" a million times, and it never happened, probably never would. "Well, if he was- if there was a way that he could suddenly give me what I wanted- it-" her voice slowed. His face hardened and hers became distant. "Wow. No."
"What?" Spike cocked his head sharply.
"I don't think that'll ever happen, but if it did- wow, I just can't. I can't anymore. My answer is no. See, if he comes back because he gets some big magical thing that makes him permanently souled, or magically human- it won't matter. I loved him and I wanted him to stay, just like he was, no special circumstances required. Just to stay, because he loved me. And I loved him. And I would put up with- with any hardship that he could have shared with me." She swallowed painfully, eyes bright. "But I wasn't enough. All that wasn't enough. So, my answer is no. I don't want him anymore. I don't hate him, but I don't want him." Not after seeing that maybe I could have something different. Better in the long run. But...the old ghosts still hurt.
One second he was soaring, mentally kicking the bastard's backside to the curb, and the next he was crashing. She was crying.
"Oh, hell. Slayer, I shouldn't have-"
"Yes, you should!" Buffy tried to compose herself. "Sorry. I already gave him so many tears, Spike…" She forced herself to breathe in, control the leaking corners of her eyes and the trembling corners of her mouth. "You deserve to get told the truth. To know stuff that matters. You never had someone who would only want you? Well, you do now."
His elated smile turned her final cries to slight laughter. He kissed her, lips scooping up tears and tongue faintly caressing trails on her cheeks. Spike devours. Revels in. All that passion, that charge-in and get down and dirty attitude- he's told it to slow down. To go steady and carefully, so we don't get hurt.
So, what should I do when I think it won't hurt anymore? What should I do when I think it's safe to … love my friend? Maybe not all the way in love with him, but love things about him, and love that he loves me enough to stay, to try normal, to play nice with the one thing that slayers have that can't take a beating. Spike is sweet to my heart.
"Sweetheart," Buffy said the words out loud.
"Yeah, Baby?" He licked his way down the line of her throat, inhaling the scent of her hair, the night air they'd walked in, and her blood sweeping and rushing under the surface. Good enough to eat. In small sips, to make it last. Last a lifetime, it could, if we were careful. Careful not to hurt each other this time.
"You're my sweetheart. That's what you are. Because you're sweet to me. To my heart. You wanna take care of it."
"Is it mutual?" He felt like his brain and his ears weren't quite connected.
"If Dru came back- if she wanted to be claimed, to claim you, if Angel were gone, forever, and she only wanted you, the way you've always wanted her? What would happen to our- friendship?"
Oh no. Don't dangle that carrot. He'd dreamed it so many times, in so many different ways. "It wasn't her fault, what they did to her, how they raised her," Spike murmured. "I don't think I could ever harm her." Spike's soft eyes suddenly turned dark and hard. Buffy involuntarily stepped back, hand going to the stake in her pocket reflexively. "Unless she came after you. Then I'd tell her I was sorry- but she'd have to go, Luv. Just like before. I save you. I choose you. I want what you have. Want what you are. Who you are." He prowled, each step a glide, each spasm of his greedy fingers meant to bring her in and hold her fast. "I want you."
"I want more… but not when I have to go in an hour," Buffy whispered, returning the sudden saunter with a fervor that surprised them both. She gripped his sleeve, then his lapel, and had to remind herself that even if Spike was strong enough for anything she could give, that he'd been treated like someone's crash test dummy, Dru and Angelus always hurting him a little bit more, to see what he could stand before the body buckled, or the heart gave way.
"Right. Right, we could- wait a few more weeks. Get Red in a better state. Get me in a better state, physically. Wanna be able to keep up with you." Spike breathed unneeded air out over her lips as they spoke between kisses.
"I don't plan to go crazy. Not crazy hard. R-remember, gentle is nice sometimes?" We're talking about sex. Like us. Having it. For real now, with a plan, sort of.
"For my Sweetheart, nothing but the best." Hold on. We're talking about this in concrete terms. Whens. Hows. Bloody hell.
"Y-you still owe me that dance?" Buffy put a pin in the lustful mood by stepping back and shedding her coat. She watched him take off his and flick the battered radio on, eyes never leaving her.
Pulled her close. Didn't fall in love with Dru slowly. Fell all at once. Crashed. This is different. This is ...wonderful. "I think you're amazin', Slayer." He smoothed her slightly mussed hair from her faces.
"Yeah? Mutual." Buffy stroked her fingers back through his and left them there, twining at the nape of his neck as they swayed.
Keep your 'lectric eye on me, babe
Put your ray gun to my head
Press your space face close to mine, love
Buffy stepped with him, arms around his neck. Dancing with him is easy. Moving with him is easy.
Sex with him is going to be incredible. When it happens. No. Not sex. Loving him, making love.
Don't fake it baby, lay the real thing on me
The church of man, love, is such a holy place to be.
"You happy?" Spike asked suddenly. He wanted to make her happy. Her smile was becoming everything to him.
She nodded. "Yeah. Weirdly, very, very happy." His eyes sparkled into hers and she saw something without pain or pretext. He's happy with me, too.
Make me, baby, make me know you really care
Make me jump into the air
"You make me happy, too. You make me- feel things I never felt. When I was human, I was wrapped up in words and love that was never returned. When I died, I was all rage and passion and love- that wasn't returned fully. I knew you were the one, Buffy. I wanted a slayer to fight, 'cause I thought I'd face an equal. I wanted you to be that slayer, Luv, because I hoped maybe one day you could give it back. Now, I just want you. Whatever I give, you match me."
"I never had that, either," Buffy whispered, pulsing rhythm and wailing guitar working in tandem with her heart. Something was building and building, and she had to make an effort not to pounce on him. Never had this level of blinding sexual desire, either.
Where's the fear?
He whirled her around with one of those kisses that you see in movies and never experience in real life- unless your partner is a die-hard romantic with a hundred years of make-out experience.
Keep your 'lectric eye on me babe
One leg went up and back as she landed on the tip toes of her other foot, starry-eyed.
The fear doesn't live here anymore. Maybe it'll pop in for a visit, but it doesn't live here.
"Walk you home?" Spike offered as the next song came on. That had felt like the perfect kiss good night, or the perfect start of whole new adventures in the bedroom. Knowing what they'd planned on -Sod all plans, I want to do that again. And more. Hours more, days maybe, we can take it. But he knew it was supposed to be the first option.
Desire and responsibility warred. Is Spike actually being a gentleman and trying to make me head home like I said?
A gentleman vampire. She giggled and slid her arm through his. "Yes, please. You know- you're still kind of perfect."
Spike waited for the standard disclaimer. The old "Tell anyone and I'll stake you." Didn't show. "Luv? You forgetting something?"
"I know, the biology book." Buffy moved away, gathering her things with a reluctant sigh.
"Not that. The whole 'you're pretty perfect, tell anyone and I'll stake you' bit of the compliment?"
Buffy's face turned thoughtful. "Not like I'm going to broadcast it in front of Willow, but I think I'm moving into the 'bragging about my guy' phase. Slowly, of course. Probably start by interrupting girls in my class who are bragging about how their boyfriends walked across campus to bring them a latte. I'll be like 'Oh, lattes are nice, but my boyfriend - oh." The word was still mildly disconcerting. But way less than she would have thought. "Well, there will be bragging about how awesome you make me feel. Safe and happy and you should have your tongue insured, because if anything happened to it, the world would lose the best kisser."
Bragging on a boyfriend. Me. "I love this side of you, Slayer. Look at you, all happy and giddy. It's not annoyin' when it's 'cause of me." He winked and she hip checked him lightly, letting their sides bounce together as she slid her coat on.
Back into the cooler air. Fog was rising. Dampness hung in the night sky and made tiny wisps of mist. "How lovely an' Halloween-y," Spike muttered.
"Thanksgiving break is- holy cow, is that next week?"
"Askin' the wrong guy. Not my holiday."
"What, vampires don't celebrate that?"
"I bet some do, but most Brits don't."
"Well, this year, you can probably come over if you want. But, my mom is going out of town, to visit her sister which means I'm in charge of the meal. Oh man. Maybe you don't want to come over. I've never made a whole turkey before. Can vamps get food poisoning?"
"Not that I know of. But, Slayer- are you seriously thinkin' of me poppin' in for turkey and pie?"
"Dumb?" Buffy asked hesitantly.
Spike loved that little uncertainty in her voice, because he could wipe it away and make her beam. He also wanted to find the people who had made her doubt herself and beat them to a bloody and disfiguring pulp, and then bring her their carcasses to use as step stools so she could reach up and get whatever cookery items were on high shelves and bound to be needed for this feast.
Oh, good. I'm not defanged. Still violent. Jus' know when to use it. "Well, I wasn't thinkin' it was dumb. Just traditional, right? The boyfriend ought to pop over, make an appearance, help fetch an' carry?"
The book hit him in the back of the head as her full arms explosively went around him, dragging him in for a kiss. He murmured around her smiling lips. "Ow! An' thanks."
He said it. He doesn't care. No, he does care. He knows that's the normal I was looking for. I love this guy.
Argh! Hold on! We'll work up to that.
She released his head, but took his hand instead."You're right. The boyfriend ought to come over. Do you know how to stuff a turkey?"
Spike gave her a quizzical look as they walked slowly back to her dorm. "Stuff it where?"
"Think she's asleep." Spike hesitated outside of her door, listening to the heartbeat within.
"I think so, too." Buffy peeped in and saw her best friend sprawled across her bed, tissues scattered around her.
Willow stirred as light from the hallway hit her face. She slowly shifted, tears still on her cheeks. She wasn't fully awake, but she heard voices around her with growing awareness.
"Tomorrow night?"
"If she's doing okay," Buffy sighed. "I wish she could find something to focus on. Something else. Maybe she could help me co-host Thanksgiving!"
"You want to ease her pain, not give her more of it," Spike quipped.
"Are you implying that working with me would be a pain?"
"Not to me. I love workin' with you. Work on anything you'd like, Luv," the voice was sincere, mildly seductive.
Willow opened her eyes long enough to watch a lingering kiss in the doorway, watch the way Spike ended it, stroking Buffy's face with his fingertips, eyelids fluttering like he was trying to control the urge to dive back in for more, and also emblazon her face in his mind.
"Goodnight, Sweetheart," Buffy whispered, almost sounding shy.
"Goodnight, Sweetheart," Spike replied before kissing her once more, too consumed with the pounding heartbeat of the woman in his arms to notice the sleeper had woken.
Willow thought of Oz with stinging pain, her eyes suddenly flickering blue. I wish my true love would show up like that.
She wondered if Oz would ever just appear on the doorstep again, back in her life as suddenly as he'd abandoned it. Her heart beat slowly, like it was struggling to move with so much pain inside.
Wait. Does that mean I think Spike is Buffy's true love? No! He's just being a nice- well, nicer guy, yeah, and maybe a little bit of romance, but- no.
Or… maybe. Who knows?
She blinked and rolled as the door shut and clicked. Blue flashes danced across her closing eyes. I hope the people I love see what they have right in front of them.
To be continued...
(This story is now on it's final chapter, I have to finish it, edit it, and then I can post it. I have about four more chapters to post, I believe.)
I've been busy with new pieces coming out. If you would be so kind as to check out my new paranormal romances or contemporary romances at S.C. Principale on the 'zon, I'd be delighted! Most are on the Unlimited plan.)