Tara picked up Spike's duster from the table and wrapped herself in it, cutting off the chill from the damp room and getting surrounded in his familiar scent. She looked over to where Willow was throwing together spell components with a concentrated displeasure.
The spell was advanced enough to keep Willow's interest, but Willow wanted to do the spell even less than she did if that were possible.
Spike had beaten Angelus thoroughly and he had remained unconscious throughout their preparations so far. Tara glanced over at the shaded corner he was chained in with a grimace. A very large part of her wanted to see him dust.
But she remembered Angel's earnest expression when he professed to be earning his redemption and sighed. It wasn't fair. Sometimes having a soft heart was just far too much work.
It least this way he wouldn't be getting an easy way out.
Tara had thought of a spell to nail that damn soul into place permanently. Then he could take it and go far away from her family and suffer on his own time.
She walked over to where Spike and Xander were seated and curled up on Spike's other side, “I really tried, Spike. I just couldn't get anything to stay. No matter what spell I did, the magic just flitted away.”
Spike knew she was near tears and wrapped one arm around her. He could feel how tired she was. He could tell she was still coming off the tranquilizers and was feeling the burn out, “It's not your fault, pet. I knew you were trying. I thought that cross business was you until after. Lay your head down and have a bit of a kip. Red looks like she has everything in hand for now.”
Tara lay down in his lap obediently, realizing that was exactly what she had wanted and hadn't even thought of it.
* * *
Xander looked down at Tara, blankly. Spike was stroking her hair and crooning a 3 Doors Down song.
“Whoa, whoa, can't let you go my little girl because you're holding up my world and I need you. It's your imitation of my walk and the perfect way you talk, and its a million different things…”
He knew the song and absently mouthed the words as he looked around the room. Buffy and Giles were discussing Spike and Spike didn't even seem to be listening. Willow was glaring down at the sand circles she was constructing, ignoring everyone else.
Anya had gone home in a huff. He wasn't sure how long ago that was. All he was aware of was that Angelus was still not dust.
Spike hadn't driven a stake through his twisted little heart. He hadn't set him on fire. He hadn't taken one of the Scottish broadswords off the wall and cut on his smarmy, hateful head.
But Spike was not to blame. Spike did whatever Buffy wanted. Buffy was in charge of the dusting of evil, or rather the not dusting, and obviously Buffy wanted Angel or Angelus or whoever still around.
Even after what he had done. How could she?
Xander glowered at the slumped figure in the corner. Spike was a solid presence against his side and he was grateful for it. Spike was the only one who had any idea of how he felt. Spike had more reasons to hate Angelus than even he did.
So Xander focused all his anger on the vampire in the corner because he couldn't hate Buffy.
* * *
The soul was restored and anchored and a very remorseful Angel was sent packing by a very pissed Buffy.
Spike carried Tara up to bed and Willow followed behind.
“I wanted to kill him, you know.” Willow said, softly so she wouldn't wake her sleeping lover.
“I think everyone wanted to kill him, Red.” Spike said just as softly, laying Tara down and covering her over with the quilts.
“But that isn't like me. I wanted to do some of the spells I've read about. The nasty one's. I could make parts fall off.” Willow's voice was dark and Spike felt a chill go through him at the power in the small girl. When the spell had been going on, Spike discovered that he could see magic. He could see how it worked and connect it to the casters.
Willow thrummed with power and when she cast the curse it had been edged in black. Spike felt a shiver of apprehension for the future if Willow was mislead through the murky labyrinth of the mystical arts.
He laid his hand on the small of her back and guided her back downstairs, “Let's go get a cuppa and talk this out, pet.”
* * *
Giles was feverishly making notes at the kitchen table and Buffy was watching him with glazed eyes. Spike smiled and snapped his fingers in front of her face making her jump, “Why don't you pack it off to bed, love? I'll be up in a bit.”
Buffy sighed, “I guess it's only a matter of time before I end up face first in Tara's fern.” She gestured to the centerpiece on the kitchen table, “I'll go upstairs and drool all over your pillow.” She smiled tiredly and sleepily went up stairs.
“Fancy a cuppa, Rupert?” Spike busied himself with the kettle as a stone-faced Willow sat down.
“Oh, Lord yes.” Giles rubbed his eyes and put down his pen.
Putting three mugs on the table he slipped one Orange Pekoe bag in the one intended for the Watcher and gave himself and Willow chamomile.
The kitchen was silent as Spike sat down, setting the cups in the appropriate places.
Willow took a sip and smiled, “Tara gives me chamomile all the time. With milk and honey just like this, how did you know?”
“That's how she makes mine. We're kind of alike, you and me. Sometimes we get carried away and leap before we look. Chamomile calms us down enough to talk about it.” Spike sipped his and waited for the reaction his words would garner.
Willow looked down into her mug, “I know what I'm doing. I've read all the books. I know it's not like me, what I said, but I didn't DO anything.”
“No, you didn't and that's good. Pet, I've lived a bit longer than you. I've been dead longer than Giles' great grandfather. I've seen some pretty scary things in my time and most of them have to do with magic. There's nothing wrong with the stuff on its own, it's what you use it for. Now I'm not criticizing you for the thoughts you've been having. Don't think for a second I haven't thought the same things. The difference is you can make it happen and from what I've seen, sometimes you have a problem with making things you want happen no matter what.”
Giles put his glasses back on, suddenly very interested in what was being said, “Are you saying-“
Spike held up his hand, “I'm not finished yet. It's not that I care what happens to the old bastard, not really and not anymore. I do care what happens to you. Surely whoever thought you your first spells told you about the rule Times Three?”
Willow was riveted, staring at him, she bit her lip, “No one taught me, really. I just picked it up mostly on my own.”
Spike shook his head, “Someone with you ability should be schooled properly. Anyway, whatever you put out comes back to you times three. When you do magic with the intent to do real harm, when you put out something dark, something dark takes a piece of you right back.”
Willow looked down and picked at her cup.
“It has consequences, love. Real, dangerous consequences.”
She nodded finally, “I know. I don't think I've been very careful. When I cast the spell to de-rat Amy, someone could have been hurt with that fire.”
“It's not mistakes, pet. Everyone makes mistakes and you didn't mean to hurt anyone there. You know what happened to that gypsy witch that cursed Angelus the first time?”
Willow shook her head, wide-eyed.
“She went mad. That's what they said but that's not what happened. That was a big curse and she wanted to hurt him bad. And he did deserve it but the magic doesn't care. Her mind was gone and her body was eaten up be whatever had taken it over. Darla had me track her so she could get her revenge but there was nothing we could do that was worse then how she was.”
“I did that curse twice!” Willow said sounding quite alarmed.
“ It's not the same thing because you didn't mean to hurt him the first time. It's the second I'm worried about because you only started having these dark thoughts when you were readying the magic, didn't you?”
She nodded and Spike could tell he had hit a nerve. Giles didn't blink once throughout the conversation and kept looking back and forth between them like he was watching a tennis match.
“I think you should take a little break. You should stick to doing magic with Tara for a while, if you ever want to be set straight, you go listen to Tara. There isn't a lick of real darkness in her.” Spike smiled reassuringly, “I should get on up to Buffy. I think she wants to talk things over if she's still awake.”
Giles watched the vampire- or Holy Vampire- or whatever he was now, exit and switched his focus on the young witch, “I think it's time you and I had a little study session. Spike is right, a witch as powerful as yourself should not go without instruction.”
* * *
Spike paused in the doorway and watched his girl sleep. Buffy was sprawled out over as much of the large bed as she could possibly take up. Every blanket on the thing was wrapped around her and she was, in fact, drooling a bit on his pillow.
He loved her.
He loved her so much.
Stripping as he entered the room, he slipped onto the mattress carefully so he didn't wake her and lay in the narrow space he was permitted. He watched her face, relaxed in sleep and he could tell she was dreaming. He wondered if it was a happy dream.
Her mouth was open and she was breathing heavily. He bent forward and kissed her eyelids, she muttered, “Just pay her already it's all she wants! Don't fall out of the boat!”
He grinned and felt tears come to his eyes, however was he supposed to go on after he was gone?
But he thought of that child that needed a friend to guard her back and the child after that and the one after that.
And he knew that he could not think of the future at all. He couldn't count the days wondering when this wonderful girl would die, dreading the sunrise because it brought him one day nearer to losing her. In that way led madness. It led to unhappiness.
What he needed to do was live every second with her like nothing would ever change and live it like she would be torn away in moments at the same time.
He needed to live like he didn't know there would be a time where she would not be there.
He wrapped himself around her and buried his face in her hair, she hadn't showered since they had gotten home so it smelled like her, not the lemon-vanilla conditioner she used.
Buffy woke then, “Oh! Oh! You're up! I mean, you're up here! I have to tell you something. I've been meaning to tell you for a while but I just kept stopping and when I almost lost you last night I realized I can't not tell you anymore!”
Spike smiled at her rambling, “I love you.”
Buffy jaw dropped, “You cheater! That's what I was going to say! I wanted to say it first!”
She was about to pout and then what he had actually said penetrated her exhausted brain, “You love me? I love you, you stupid vampire! And your not allowed to be tortured anymore. That's the new rule.”
“I thought the new rule was not to use the same knife in the peanut butter as the one used in the jelly.”
“O.K, so this is the new- new rule.” Buffy kissed the scar of his throat, “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
“No. I'm the Slayer and I always win. I love you more.”
“I love you infinity.”
“I love you infinity plus one.”
“I love you infinity, times infinity, times infinity more infinities.”
“You so skipped a few steps there.”
* * *
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