Chapter 20 Figured out
The big joint conversation went on, mingled with silences that was not anywhere as strained as only a short time before, and Spike was feeling more and more overwhelmed. It was out in the open now, more of his innermost, darkest thoughts and feelings than he had ever imagined sharing with this whole crowd of flatmates. Up for discussion, for anyone to add his or her analysis. A huge part of him just wanted to find some dark and dank place underground and hide from their collective sight.
But another, growing, part of him was relieved and elated. Everyone had been fine with it. No one was giving him a hard time. With Angel, of all people, leading on, they had fully declared him one of their own, vowed that no one would try to hurt him again, and Giles had even admitted fault in having wronged him in the past.
He felt dizzy. And soon very, very tired. He hadn't been able to sleep for days on end, with the mortal terror that had held him constantly, through fearing attacks from the watchers, attacking them, and getting locked up time and again. The final fight with Willow floated through his mind, and he silently smiled to himself. The spell that had been used to take him down before was dodgeable. He'd felt it come, and known how to dodge it so many times that she had to give up, and recourse to a more drastic option, which could only work on such close range that whoever tried it would always be within striking distance. He had come out on top, and forced his will through, up against the most powerful witch in town. Maybe, in a couple of more good fights, he could actually really start to feel safe and confident again, feel like his old self?
But that would be later. Right now, there was nothing he wanted more than just a good day's sleep. The sun was up hours ago. It was well past his bedtime. He got up and told the others he was turning in for the day, and went. Felt a rush of discomfort at passing by the first bedroom upstairs, where they had forced him to stay for way too long, and made a mental note never to enter that room again. He found another, a little further down the hall, and crashed on the bed, without even bothering to take his clothes off.
He knew nothing before a gentle hand through his hair woke him up, many hours later. The whole room was saturated in Buffy scent, and he drank in her sweet, melodious voice, directed at him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. If you want to sleep on, then I'll be out right away." "No, it's ok" he mumbled. "Sun down yet?" "Yeah. About an hour ago. I was thinking about going out on patrol soon, but I wanted to stop by and check on you first." He opened his eyes fully, and turned towards her. "Why?" He was not locked up or in any kind of danger now. Not even particularly depressed. What reason could Buffy have to come in here in such a sweet and gentle way then?
She gave him an insecure little smile, and sat down on the bedside. "That story Willow recounted, from down in the Initiative caves with Wood and the First, it sounded like there was quite a lot of me in it."
"Yeah, sorry about that" he mumbled, turning away in shame. "No" she reached out her hand, and turned his face back towards her. "I'm sorry. For being mean enough to you for so long that it made it easy for the First to use it. These whole last years, it's been so difficult for both of us. I had never planned for there to be an "us" at all. But well, there is, and for a very long time, that scared the crap out of me." He looked at her with wide open eyes, taking in this strangely direct confession in rapt attention, pining for more. She granted the wish. "Loving you is the scariest thing I have ever done. I had never seen it coming. In fact, after Angel broke up with me, I had solemnly promised myself never to put myself in such a situation again. "
She gulped, and swallowed down a few tears to be able to continue. She had thought about this all day while he was sleeping. Seeing his vulnerable face before her eyes, thinking of the progress Fred had rightly stated that he had made, from suicidal to reasonable and reflective about his experienced trauma. But only towards Willow, not her. He didn't trust her. He'd made that perfectly clear already at his lowest point, in the wake of his first recent suicide attempt, when he had point blank refused to accept her declaration of love for him. She had to do something about that. She had to give him something to trust. She had decided, during the day, to really give her all to let him know how all her complex feelings were, in a way she had never allowed herself before, or probably even been capable of. To repay his bravery of sharing his trauma with everyone, with bravery of her own, in trying to dress the spiritual wounds that the First had clearly carved into. The ones that she had helped create.
She looked deep into his all too expressive, and painfully surprised, eyes, and continued. "But you just got to me. When I had lost Heaven itself, had no one to talk to, and pretty much just wanted to die, you were there. Not telling me what to think, feel or do, not demanding anything, just was there, listening and supportive, making me feel again. It was the most beautiful, and the most terrible, experience I have ever had. It turned my world around. This world that already was spinning enough to make me dizzy. I thought I knew, what heaven and hell was, good and bad, right and wrong. I had been searching, for so long, for my identity as a slayer. When I died, for Dawn, up in that tower, I thought I finally had it down, I thought I finally got it. I was good, I was a protector, I was the one always ready to die to stop evil.
And then I fell in love with you, and everything lost it's certainty. You were everything that I was supposed to be against. A vampire – the very definition of what a vampire slayer is meant to fight. Even one without a soul. An evil soulless demon, who had personally tried to kill me and my friends on a number of occasions. And the only one in my life that could make me happy."
She looked up in his now completely awestruck face, tears now running freely down hers. "I thought something must be fundamentally wrong with me. That I had come back from Heaven in a twisted and evil shape, that couldn't belong there any longer. I couldn't accept that. I just couldn't deal. So, I tried to cling on to my categories, my purpose, whatever I thought I knew about the world. About good and evil, about right and wrong. About me and you."
Her voice was shivering now. She reached out a hand, and grabbed one of his. Held it tightly, like a life line. "And I don't think I was wrong to do so. What I knew about vampires and slayers and the world in general wasn't all wrong. We were not, and could not be, a healthy couple as long as you were evil. Even in my most blissful moments, when I was deep in your embrace and wanted to never leave, I was wise to keep that in mind."
He held her hand shakily, and gave her a deeply searching look, as if trying to read her mind about what she was about to say next. "But I was wrong to send such mixed signals about it. To my defense, I didn't do that to play with you. I simply didn't know any better. I was a mess, and out of control, and you were there, to take all the crap I cared to throw. And it became a lot of it. Thank you for putting up with me, through all of it."
He tried to say something, to find some response to this raw and stunning confession. But his throat was so clogged up by the lump in it that he couldn't have spoken even if he had known what to say. So, he just kept holding her hand, and looking at her, soaking in her every word.
"In a less messy state of mind, I could have been nicer" she conceded. "But I couldn't have made our relationship work. The fact that you were evil were always there, and would always be causing us a world of pain and trouble, even in between all the good things. But things changed, when it got so bad that you too really saw that, and put your wonderful, stubborn determination to work at fixing the problem." She smiled even broader, through her tears, and cuddled up next to him, letting her hand leave his, and run up his arm, and rest on his cheek. "When you got your soul for me."
"Then it was possible. The "us". Not right away. There was too much that had happened, too many too fresh memories, it was too hard to trust that you had really changed." She stiffened up for a moment, and held her breath. Then she took a deep breath and eased down into the bed again. "By the time we met again, I was still having flashbacks, and tried my best to limit my visits to the bathroom."
Now it was his turn to stiffen up, and he finally found his words, the same ones that had been uttered a lot lately. "I'm so sorry Buffy. So very sorry." She moved her hand to press a finger against his lips. "I know! You got your soul for me. That's the strongest apology I have ever had. I know you would never do anything so wrong with the soul." She smiled and brought her hand back to his shoulder. "That's what changed everything. That is why this thing now might actually work. At least I'm not afraid to say it any more: You are a good man. And I love you."
They just laid there, for a long time, not saying any more, just sharing each other's gaze, and each their tears. Spike returned Buffy's touch, by reaching out a hand, and stroking her cheek, then playing with her hair. "Buffy" he whispered, in a silken soft and vulnerable voice. "I love you! I've loved you for so long."
She bent forward, and closed the gap between their faces, answering him in a long, warm kiss. Their hands started moving, almost shyly, down through each other's arms and fastened around each other's waist, before they broke up the kiss, and just looked at each other. Laid there for a while, just basking in the embrace.
Then she gently pulled loose the hem of his shirt, and started moving her hands under it, exploring anew a chest and back that was now fully fit and strong and whole again. He looked at her, and started pulling away. "Are you sure you want to go on? After what we just talked about?" She looked into his eyes and smiled brilliantly. "Yes. You have a soul now. I trust you." But she allowed him to pull back. "But only if you want to."
He did. The shirt was off in the next moment, and then her shirt went as well, along with other pieces of clothing. But slowly. The aggressive, predatory hunger for each other that they had had in the past was gone. There was no even close to violent moves, no games, no power play. Just tender and careful exploration of each other, in full openness, taking all the time in the world, with no plans of leaving. When it finally culminated Buffy could not remember having ever felt so good. And with no dark and difficult bag of guilt and shame to carry along with it.
Afterwards, they just laid there next to each others, smiling and basking in each other's gaze. Spike couldn't believe what had just happened. Could it actually be true? It was beyond his wildest dreams. Probably too good to last. But… maybe? He had never expected her to open up and leave herself vulnerable to such a degree, with such raw honesty, as she had done tonight. Laying here right now, looking into her intense emotional eyes, it seemed so clear that it hurt: she had meant it all. The game was over. And the cards laid on the table looked to finally be really in his favor.
"I'm not leaving you this time." She confirmed, as if reading his mind. "But… I want to go to the bathroom. Stay right here, I'll be back in a minute."
He was ready to take her word for it. Settled down deeper into the bed, and stared up into the ceiling, in a nice dreamy haze of happiness. Just as a ghost passed through the wall on the opposite side of where she had exited.
"Oh, hello there, Peaches. Had a nice night out haunting?" he smiled, feeling so on top that not even the great poofter could spoil his mood. "Very funny" Angel scoffed. "At least I've been out doing something. While you've just been laying around here?" He sniffed the air, and didn't like the scent of it one bit. Spike instantly caught on to that. "Well, yeah" he smirked, "but I'm not the only one who's been doing…."
At that, he was caught by surprise by a spare pillow from the mess on the floor, that came shooting forth towards him and stuffed itself towards his face so hard it became impossible to get out more words. He gasped and sputtered for a second, before grabbing it and tossing it aside. "Nice move Ghost. Getting your mojo together, are you?" he laughed, while putting up the comforter as a wall towards other items, like clothes and knickknacks from the dresser top, that kept assailing him.
"Honestly" a sharp, yet somewhat amused voice rang from the door opening. "Put you two in a room together and give you something to bicker about, and you turn into a couple of rowdy twelve year olds."
Buffy walked in, and gave them both a stern, yet playful, look. "I'd say you guys should just get a room and wrestle it out some time. But under the current circumstances that would take shadow boxing to a whole new level."
None of the vampires laughed. "What's going on here?" Angel demanded. "You're sleeping with him again? After how that ended the last time?"
Buffy flinched, wondering how much he knew about the last time. Hopefully not anything near the whole story. Then she straightened herself up, and looked him in the eyes.
"Yes, I am. As of today, he's my boyfriend."
Angel twitched, and took a step towards her. "We talked about this before. Back in Sunnydale. You're going through a hard time right now. You've always been a lovably strange cookie, but these times you're being all soft and doughy, and not ready to make big decisions yet. Try to think clearly about what you're doing."
"For the last few months, I've been doing little else." She replied sincerely. "I do remember what we talked about, and you're right, this has been a process that has kept getting a little too hot for comfort, but, although possibly a little burnt at the edges, I think I'm finally done baking now. I'm cookies. And I'm truly sorry, you will always be special to me, but you're not the one who gets to eat those cookies."
Angel looked at her, with wide eyes, opened and closed his mouth before finding his voice again. "I respect that. In fact, I tried to tell you, years ago already, that that wasn't a good idea. But I left you, and accepted all the pain of no longer having you with me, for a reason! Vampires and slayers aren't meant to be together. You can never have a normal life like this. Never have children, never get old with someone, never get the uncomplicated life that you deserve, as not merely the slayer, but the woman that you are." He gave Spike a dirty look. "My grand-childe here has never been mature enough to get such things, but you should. Especially if you're "done baking". You're not The Slayer any longer. You're free to just be a girl, and get the whole package of family happiness that you deserve. That I let go of you to give you."
"I may not be The Slayer." Buffy conceded. "But I will always be a slayer. With all that entails of various kinds of weird. I tried my darnest to keep that away from my mother, and failed, even with help from her insistent denial of the matter. Whoever else who lives with me will get involved in it sooner or later. Normal isn't an option. I tried dating Mr. Normal for a year in college, and it didn't work out, even when he turned out to be a specially trained demon hunter, who was down with this whole night gig of mine. I need a man who can match me. Who's strong and fast and fit enough to keep up. Who will not get an inferiority complex about my power, and who will not be an easy target for any demon who wish to get one over on me. I kinda doubt there are many mortals who can fit that bill."
Noticing that he was still seething, she carried on. "And yeah, I'm well aware that there will be no fat grandchildren in my future with Spike, but the way my life is, I'm starting to think that might be an advantage. Maybe slayers aren't meant to have children anyway? I mean, look at Wood, and how that turned out…" She turned to Spike, and gave him a grim smile, which he failed to return, being wrapped in rapt attention to her confrontation with Angel.
The night passed with talking, cuddling, and absolutely no sleep. When she woke up in late afternoon, after sleeping most of the day away, Buffy made a promise to herself to not make such a vampiric sleep pattern a habit. Yeah, right, with so much to do with vampires both in her work and personal life, that wasn't gonna be an easy one to keep.
But she had other people in her life too, thankfully. Warm, living, if not exactly normal, people. And now it was long overdue to get up and see them, before they started worrying about where she was. Spike was not overly enthusiastic about moving out of their joint cocoon of bed sheets and go face the others, but she got him to come along anyway.
She had only just turned the corner down into the lobby when she stumbled upon someone she had not expected to see there yet. "Cordy! What are you doing here, and… awake?" she rambled in shock. "What, Angel didn't tell you?" Cordelia turned back to Angel, coming up behind her, and gave him a sharp look. He gave them a somewhat apologetic smile, and explained. "We may have forgotten to mention it, in between everything that went down yesterday, but we met Cordy at the hospital, when picking up Wes. She had awoken, and the doctors estimated that she might be able to come home in a few more days, after they'd had time to monitor her recovery for a little bit."
"But I couldn't wait that long, so I'm happy you guys were able to come and pick me up now." She gave him a warm but concerned smile, and turned to Buffy to explain further. "After Angel had explained to me all about Lindsay and the amulet and his current ghostly condition, I had another vision. Of Lindsay in his lair, putting together another spell, with pictures of Angel all around the ritual site. He's up to something again, and we were just stopping by to get weapons, to go out and face him once and for all."
Buffy lighted up. "So, you know where he is?" "Yes" Cordy confirmed. "You're coming with us to kick his ass?" "You bet I am!" Buffy beamed, and hurried along with the others to pick weaponry. Spike hesitated only for a moment, before joining the others in getting armed and ready for battle. He was pleased to see that no one raised an eyebrow at that, and let him have whichever weapon without objections.
When they arrived on the location of Cordy's vision, they could see the arranged ritual site laying partially ready, with a small cauldron over the yet unlit fireplace, with a ritual circle on the floor around it, and pictures of Angel spread along the circle's parameters. On a nearby table there was a spellbook laying open on a page titled "how to summon a spirit."
"Looks like the ritual hasn't started yet. We made it in time" Gunn stated matter-of-factly.
Willow made her way to the spellbook, and read the instructions briefly. "Hmm, this spell doesn't include a cauldron, or a fire. He clearly has bigger plans with this séance than just to say hey."
"Well, he has achieved the "hey" part at least" Angel grumbled firmly. "But as soon as he comes back from … shopping for ingredients or whatever he's up to, he's gonna be sorely disappointed about the rest."
"I think he might be, in more ways than you think!" Willow piped excitedly. "This book has a really great spirit section. I just found a spell here for how to make a spiritual entity solid again." She looked up at Angel in jittery excitement. "It won't be a warm, living body, but you didn't have that before either, so there shouldn't really be any difference."
When Lindsay came home, happy with having been able to retrieve all the spell ingredients he'd need for his final vengeance over Angel, he was in for a shock of a lifetime. The spirit he was seeking was already in his summoning circle, but with armed sentries all around it, and a damn witch right in there with him, performing some sort of spell already. Before his eyes, the spirit grew denser and denser, until it congealed into something as solid as any of the others in attendance.
No! The damn former vampire was supposed to be trapped within the circle, anxiously awaiting his next move, not come armed, with company, like this! He tried to turn and run, but he was being followed, and before he could get far, hands that were as cold as those of his deeply hated foe clasped around him in an iron grasp, and he was dragged back into the room by strong arms, clad in a black leather duster.
"Going already?" Spike jeered at him. "You're gonna miss the party. It's not good custom to invite, and then not stick around."
"I didn't invite you!" Lindsay sneered. "This is none of your business! Let go of me."
"You're right." Angel said. "This is between me and you. I gave you a promise that the next time I saw you in my town, I'd kill you. I suppose that gives me first right to do so." He gave Spike a mirthful look. "So normally I'd tell him to let you loose, so I can deal with this. But my grandchilde here has never been the best at honoring such rights. He's kind of a rebel like that."
Spike laughed. "Sure you're up to it, grandsire? Not feeling too ghostly?"
"Nah" said Angel, with a ferocious grin, rubbing his hands together, and taking his coat off. "I don't think I even need weapons for this"
Spike then tossed Lindsay towards him, and stepped back into position to guard the door.
"You know" Angel said, directed at Lindsay. "It wouldn't have had to come to this. I have no deep grudge against you for these most recent escapades. Though it probably wasn't intended that way, giving us that amulet was the greatest deed you have ever done. It saved the world from the ultimate evil." He paused, and gave him a thoughtful smirk. "In fact, if you're gonna keep dishing out that kind of vengeance, I had better keep you alive, so that I have somewhere to turn in upcoming emergencies."
At that, Lindsay let out a growl, and came at him with ferocious force, and the fight was on. Hit, kick block, parry. Up and down and sideways. In the end, they had made it up a set of stairs, into a landing a little away from the watching crowd.
"There" Lindsay jeered. "How nice of you to come up. Up here, your friends won't be able to come to your rescue when your dust starts flying." He then pulled a stake from the pocket of his jacket, and jammed it straight into Angel's heart.
And nothing happened. When the stake was removed, there was a small gaping wound where the heart was, but the rest of him was as intact as ever. Angel and Lindsay looked at the wound, in equal befuddlement, and then Angel grabbed him, and sent him full force over the railing, crashing head first into the floor below. There he twitched a few times, before he laid still, with a fractured skull.
Angel then came down the stairs himself, and the others flocked around him. First Buffy and Cordy, giving him a hug from each their side, and then the rest of the crowd, filling in on the big group hug till they were all in one lump. All but Spike, who still skulked around off by the door.
"I still don't understand." Angel muttered when they finally let him come up for, unneeded, air. "That stake hit it's mark perfectly. Why am I still here?"
"It's because of the way the spell worked" Willow explained. "I told you, it did not give you your old body back. You're still a spiritual entity. The vampire in you is still gone, dusted in the Hellmouth. I just made you solid. To all practical purposes, your new body works as well as the old one, but with some improvements. You cannot be staked, and you can go out in the sunshine as much as you want to. If someone wants to kill you, it will have to be through spirit banishing, or something like that. "
She gave him a knowing smile, and continued. "And I figure your old curse is broken as well. The one that would separate your soul from the body. That separation is now done once and for all. Your demon is dust. You are free to get as happy as you'd like, completely without risk."
"Wow". Cordy turned to him, with tears gleaming in her eyes. "I'm so happy I woke up in time to help arrange this." Angel smiled back, and took her into another long hug. "Your timing is always impeccable."
Spike couldn't take it any more. He couldn't stay there. He had to get out for air. Angel was back. Not just in the somewhat manageable haunting ghost way, but really back. In the flesh, and without either cursed or vampiric restrictions. Now, Buffy would surely prefer him again. There was no question about it. He opened the door he had been guarding, and rushed outside in a fervor.
But he hadn't gotten far before he could hear steps behind him, and sense her scent with them. He turned back, and faced her.
"Shouldn't you be inside celebrating? Tall Dark and Forehead has gotten his bulk back, and won't even loose it the next time you please him this time."
"No, you doofus", Buffy chided lovingly. "Have you forgotten already, what we talked about just a few hours ago? That wasn't about him. It was about us. About you. I am happy he got his body back, and that he's free of his demon forever, but it doesn't change anything. I've made my choice."
She got right up in his face, and pulled him in for a long warm kiss, and right then, Spike thanked the Powers That Be that he had never been cursed. It was a moment of perfect happiness.
THE END