Taste of Juliet
by Megan
Chapter Sixteen
In all the years that Rupert Giles had been a Watcher, in all the years that he had been in the front row of paranormal, never had he expected to have two vampires taking up residence in his home. His experience had always resulted in the knowledge that they were vicious, murdering vermin that had to kill, or in turn be killed. He had experienced much however, so on his first encounter with Angel he felt wary but accepting. Especially when faced with the offer of help in protecting his young charge.
Knowing and accepting the inevitable early death of a Slayer, he had still been devastated on uncovering the prophecy warning of the Slayer’s loss in a battle with the Master. But in all his years, he had never been prepared for a Slayer like Buffy Summers. In his continual astonishment at her attitude towards slaying, and the inclusion of her friends in the mission, he had found himself in the centre of a band of merry mini slayers that had all gone beyond the call of friendship to protect the world. Their motivation was of course survival, but also the value they placed on the life of Buffy. They wanted to protect her, and he knew they would never give up on her.
But when it came to her relationship with Angel, they had been split. Of course, they had remained beside her, but post-Acathla certain members of the group would never be accepting of the words ‘soul’ and ‘vampire’ in the one entity. Oddly enough, he was finding that he might not be one of that side. The more he was seeing of Spike’s remarkable transformation, the more he accepted this incredible joining of spirit between his Slayer and the former Master. In fact, he was hard pressed through the night to not stick out his tongue at Angel and go ‘nerny nerny ner ner!' Of course he stopped himself, not having the emotional wherewithal to put up with any more scowling tonight.
When they had found Spike on the floor of the study, scrubbing frantically at non-existent blood stains, his Watcher hat had been firmly in place. He couldn’t deny that he had been studying the vampire all night, noticing his flinches and starts when certain events of his future were brought up. He also noticed the familiarity between Buffy and the vampire, a familiarity that should have been impossible based on the combative relationship the two had shared up till now. He could only explain it by what Tara had claimed. Was it only yesterday? They did indeed appear to belong together.
The Watcher in him could not ignore the mystical evidence they had so far witnessed, the non-igniting flame when their hands touched, the crimson mist that had surrounded them when they kissed, even the spell that seemed to bring them back more united than before they had begun. He could see Buffy’s emotions change and her acceptance grow before his eyes, and with a certainty that the man in Giles wanted to deny, he knew that Tara was right. The love he saw blossom in front of his eyes held maturity and a sense of right that was lacking from the melodrama that was Angel and Buffy.
He could sense the depth, and to top it all off, the deed itself of fighting for his soul, was enough for Giles to decide to be supportive. A demon seeking a conscience to protect his mortal enemy… why it was almost amusing if it wasn’t so romantic, and Giles wasn’t so long in the tooth that he couldn’t appreciate romance. Xander would stand alone in his ‘vampire equals bad’ club.
Giles would give the blonde a chance, just as he’d given Angel. His easy sanctifiction may have had a little to do with the fact that needn’t be on guard about Spike losing his soul; for whatever reason. Buffy deserved this; she had earned it with her tireless devotion to her calling.
So, it might have started out as Watcher enthusiasm for study, but once Buffy had placed her arms around the vampire’s shaking form and murmuring madness, it was his father’s role that he felt teared up at seeing the pain of his daughter’s love. Spike had had a rough time of it the previous night, his acclimatisation to the soul in itself was difficult- and he knew even frightening to the vampire- but he had been served a double whammy with this chip inhibiting his natural tendencies. Though it was an added safeguard that could enable Xander to be more accepting at least, he knew that if Spike were to be a proper member of their little entourage, and be useful in the fight, he would need the chip removed.
Some of the events that Buffy had relayed about their future made his skin crawl, and he wondered how things could have gotten so out of control. The Ripper in him wanted to blame the chipped vampire, for with his arrival he brought bad luck and the destruction of their unity, but he knew it wasn’t fair and that he attributed too much to Spike. Still, he shuddered at the trials ahead, and knew that they would need an unimpaired Spike behind them.
His mind had been reeling from all the information Buffy had recounted. They had learned a lot from the spell, probably a lot that the three participants had even kept to themselves. He knew though that it was wrong to delve into the future, though, and he feared the possible consequence. One thing stuck though, and he vowed first thing to set in motion instruction for Willow. One thing they did not need was for her to lose control and turn to darkness. He could never forgive himself if he allowed that to happen. No, they would do whatever it took to prevent some of those awful events from coming to fruition. That had to be the meaning behind the journey. Behind the pain.
It was evident by Spike’s hidden fall into insanity that the Vampire was experiencing as much anguish with the return of his soul than he had previously. He couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps their sojourn into the future perhaps mucked up the vampire’s reward. Then again, contrary to Cordelia’s warning from the PTB, up to this point they could have handled the Spike situation swimmingly. So, it appeared that it was expected that they would seek answers, and indeed it would have been imprudent for them to not try and understand the nature of his soul. Thus, Angel had come in handy at trying to soothe the lost vampire, even though they both could see Buffy’s anger that he could offer something she couldn’t; acceptance and care from a Sire.
‘Angel will be important for Spike’s adjustment, as well as instruction for Buffy,’ he had thought, when they had both heard the screams come from the sleeping pair. They had rushed to the room to find Spike lucid and soothing the sobbing girl, and he had his first inkling of why Angel would be elemental in the recovery of the pair. Without hearing of the Slayer’s dream, he suspected he already knew of its meaning. She had taken on some of the vampire’s pain from his crimes, and though Giles clenched his teeth angrily that she would have had to see such carnage and vileness, he knew it was necessary. When they kissed, Angel standing fuming beside him, Giles knew that it would be their love that would help them get though it. She needed to see what his demon really was, see how remarkable his act of sacrifice for her was in searching to replace his soul for her. And Giles felt furious hatred toward himself for the tosser he was to become in trying to guilt his Slayer away from this all empowering acceptance and love. With a guilty start, he realised that as much as the self-proclaimed Scoobies loved and wanted her, none of them could come close to this acceptance, this faith. Not even Angel, which was why he had never deserved her.
Aware that they were witnessing a very private and emotionally traumatic moment for the pair, Giles dragged Angel from the room and quietly shut the door.
Chapter Seventeen
Strolling across the front lawns of campus, Buffy revelled in the sunny rays warming her face. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back and smiled. It didn’t feel like a day of missed classes- more like a week- but here she was, after her whole life had turned around, walking to her last day of classes before Thanksgiving break. Just one class this morning before she had to head home and talk to her mom about some things, mainly things dressed head to toe in black, with almost glowing white hair and an open invitation to their house. The grin wouldn’t leave her face whenever she thought of him and she marvelled at how different things were today. Just several days ago she had hoped he finally had decided to stay out of town.
God, she couldn’t forget his mouth. Boy, could he kiss… and then some. She was counting down the hours till she could get back to Giles’s, wait for sundown to either go with Spike, or send Angel out on patrol, and have some quality time alone with those lips. Mmm, Spike lips, lips of Spike. She wondered if he had awoken yet, and if he was thinking about her. It was a sunny day, and she was totally going to block any unpleasant thoughts of prophetic dreams and anguish connected to soul having, just for the occasion. It could work.
Still in her happy daze she spied Willow in the distance, seemingly on edge, talking with that guy Riley. Buffy furrowed her brow in confusion, and that strange feeling of melting between her present and future self occurred right there on the grass. She was amazed at the amount of information she had picked up about what her life was to be like from the spell, and now she recognised that Riley had played a rather large and significant part in it. She hadn’t thought of it before; so many other events seemed tremendously more important than another relationship gone wrong-particularly one that she hadn’t really invested that much emotional energy into. She couldn’t fool herself; she had sought normal, and despite his connection to the Initiative and all the icky stuff sprouting from that experience, he was super normal wrapped up in boring brown paper- even lacking the decorative bow.
It was kind of reassuring to have the guessing gone, as she was being forced to see what was good for her. She had obviously been blind to have missed the potential in Spike. Then again, she couldn’t help thinking that her stubbornness probably would have forced her to overlook him even now with the soul, if the Powers hadn’t forced their hand and they hadn’t learnt so much about their future. Already knowing that she would love him in the time to come made it so much easier to decide to take the risk now, but she still needed to take it slow.
Her intensive thinking had taken her all the way to Willow’s side, and the two girls both gave a startled gasp at realising they had met up.
Willow smiled a little at Buffy’s wide grin, always pleased when her friend was happy. The events of the past two days had been intense and emotionally exhausting; Willow couldn’t deny that her confusion hadn’t lessened. She knew what Tara had told her about the connection between Buffy and Spike, and boy, she could see it every time she looked at the two of them together. But it was still kind of hard to trust the vamp who had held a broken bottle in her face and threatened to kill her and Xander. She could understand Xander’s strong reluctance to take anything the vamp claimed to heart. Buffy’s happiness was important, though. As important as Xander’s feelings-and hey, he had Anya, the unrepentant, orgasm-bragging, she-devil herself. If they could be happy, then well, so could Buffy. And like a flare in the dark, the light flashed on and she understood. And she could accept. They had taken Angel back, hadn’t they? And Spike hadn’t actually killed anyone she knew. So it should be easier. Besides, Giles had already started the process. After all, Spike did save the world, or was going to save the world, or, well, he did something about saving the world at some point in time.
Willow shook her head, having gotten her internal monologue into a bit of a muddle, and came back with a start at being addressed.
“Hey, Will. Looked like you zoned out there for a second.”
Willow looked at Buffy in gratitude, and indicated Riley beside her.
“Riley was just saying that he was going home for break.”
“Oh, that would be so great. At least you get to leave Sunnydale for a little while. Where are you from?” Buffy wasn’t really thinking about her questions, nor was she listening to the answers, but she was observing the man that spoke nonetheless. She was confused. How had she ended up dating him in the first place? There were too many similarities to her first vampire love, and that was kind of creepy when she looked at it objectively. She looked at him…could she pick a body type and stubbornly stick to it, or what? They both were irrationally consumed with dislike for Spike, and well, for most demon interaction they acted first, thought later. It was a startling revelation that the both of them may have had more impact on her own thinking and actions towards demons than perhaps Giles, or her own free thought.
“Iowa. So you’re staying here for the holidays?” She could hear the hopefulness in his voice and cringed a little, knowing that it couldn’t go anywhere.
“Absolutely. My mom is going out of town so I’m cooking at Giles’s.”
Willow looked at her in shock.
“Um, Buff, have you ever cooked anything before?”
“Well, toast, that one time. Um, not really anything big, but how hard can it be? It just needs planning, and recipes, and hey, I’m really good with the planning.” She pouted, but stopped abruptly when she caught Riley’s focused look at her lips.
Willow just raised an eyebrow and started to wonder how she could get out of the big dinner Buffy had planned. First things first, if they didn’t get going they would be late for class. Saying goodbye to Riley and ignoring his look of disappointment, they made their way inside the building to find their lecture room.
Suddenly realising that this was the first time she had the chance to talk to Willow since the spell, Buffy’s mind was flooded with a hundred questions it suddenly seemed urgent to ask her. She settled for what she thought was the most important.
“How’s Tara?”
Willow looked at her suspiciously but decided to probe more into the missing information gleaned, but not relayed, from the spell.
“Are you sure there wasn’t some things you missed out last night that you still need to share?”
“Ah, that would be a big no.” Buffy looked anywhere but at Willow, but heard the redhead’s sigh and released her own breath in relief. No inquisition today. No having to relate the morbid news, or tell too much of the Big Bad Willow. Avoidance was the name of her game. Avoidance, thy name is Buffy. Man, she was good.
And Willow was back to answering about Tara.
“She’s fine, though she wanted me to perform a forgetting spell. Did she see something bad happen to her in the future?” Willow was worried now, not having thought much about the request earlier when the high of knowing she was going to be a powerful witch took over.
“What? No! Well, kind of. But see, we’re changing everything, remember? I don’t die, Tara won’t die, Spike won’t die. It’s all good.” Fear had made her blurt out the truthful litany: the one that Tara had specifically wanted to be kept quiet and Buffy felt like giving herself a Slayer kick in the ass for being so stupid and self-obsessed. Her rambling self-blame stopped abruptly as Willow grabbed her arm hard.
“What happens then?” she asked, her voice fearful and wobbly.
“Ah, this is where the ‘going to the dark side’ has a whole new meaning for Willow Rosenburg.”
Willow’s eyes shot open as large and round as dollar coins.
“Oh my God, what do I do?”
Buffy smiled reassuringly at her friend.
“You don’t need to worry about any of that, Wills. Giles is looking into places you can go to get trained up properly, okay? So, no need to worry. Nothing will happen to Tara, or any of us. Everything will be fine.” As she said it a cold shiver ran down her spine and she crossed her fingers that indeed they could change it. The Slayer was determined; they would not lose Tara. And if Spike were to perish again, she would stay in that damn Hellmouth and go with him. She was not giving him up.
At the end of the lecture, or at least after Willow had given her a not so subtle elbow to the ribs to wake her, she made her way out and through Sunnydale to her house. She arrived to find her mother packing a case for her trip, and she plonked down on the bed and watched Joyce collect her toiletries. The look she received from the older woman was indulgent and they both just smiled for a moment, happy to be in each other’s company.
With a sigh, she knew that she had to tell her mother what had been going on over the past few days- the telling at first getting caught in her throat as she tried to decide whether to tell the truth about her mother’s illness. The many deaths rose up to smother her and she panicked. Jumping from the bed, she started to pace a little in front of the door, ready to take off if she needed to. In the end, she forced herself to calm down and sat back on the side of the bed again, noticing that Joyce had already taken a seat at the other end but still faced her, waiting patiently for Buffy to tell what was wrong. Buffy had never been this nervous before so she suspected it must be something big.
“Spike is back in town.”
Joyce smiled indulgently at remembering the hot chocolate-loving vampire.
“Did he get that dreadful girl back that he was heartbroken over?”
“Dru? Of course not.” Joyce sat back calmly at the foot of her bed intrigued that Buffy wasn’t yelling and pacing like she normally would have been at the news that Spike was back in town.
“Is he trying to kill you again?” she asked, a low level of concern evident in her voice. But Buffy thought she sounded a bit like she wouldn’t believe it, even if she was presented with a bleeding Buffy with Spike’s fangs still protruding from her neck.
“You are worried about that, aren’t you?” Buffy asked a little resentfully. “You do remember he is a vampire, don’t you?”
“Why of course, Buffy. But he isn’t your average vampire, is he? I mean, how many vampires do you know who pour their hearts out to the mother of their greatest enemy while sipping on hot chocolate with marshmallows? I think he’s a pussycat if you just get under all the, um, leather.” Joyce looked sideways at Buffy’s shocked look and was smug with the inspiration to tease her daughter. Sometimes she worried that Buffy took life a little too seriously.
“He has a soul now,” Buffy blurted, appalled at her mother’s admiring remarks. Knowing of her escapades with Giles was way enough reality about her mothers sex life. Only Buffy could think of getting under Spike’s leather. It was just a matter of time.
“Oh?’” Joyce asked inquisitively. “How did that happen? Did he get cursed by Gypsies like that horrible Angel?”
Buffy watched her mother very closely.
“No, he got it for me. To give me what I deserve.”
“Oh,” Joyce said again. She seemed genuinely speechless. She blinked. “Is he in love with you?”
“Not now, but he is in the future.”
Joyce was falling into a cloud of confusion. “What do you mean?”
Buffy sighed but sat down and over the next hour told her mother everything leading up to the spell, and even beyond. The more she told, the more her anguish grew, spraying out information like a shaken bottle of coke, and by the time she stopped, her mother had a horrified look on her face.
“Buffy, I don’t know anything about aneurisms, but we can be on our guard about this and make sure I get treatment as soon as possible.” As far as she could tell, there was no scepticism in her mother’s voice, nothing but belief and Buffy gulped down one heavy throatful of relief that she was able to now put on hold. Her mother was going to take responsibility for this one load, lightening her burden by degrees. “And you, young lady, really need to work on your intuition. I told you Spike was different. And to think he did all that for you. You are so blessed to have that kind of devotion from a man. Do you know where he is going to be living? We have the spare room, or there’s the basement if he thinks it might be safer.” Buffy looked at her mother in compounding nervousness.
“Um, not that those aren’t really great ideas, but I don’t think it would be such a hot idea for Spike and me to live so close to each other.” Joyce gave her daughter a disappointed look.
“I thought you said that you care for him. That you’re friends with him now. Don’t you think shutting him out is a little selfish considering all he will do for you in the future?”
“It’s not like that. There is major sparkage between us. I just think that it might be difficult for us to take things slowly if he lived here.”
“But Buffy, you live on campus, remember. It would just be me here.” Buffy’s eyes widened in realisation; her mother envisioning what was under Spike’s leather. Even though she suspected that Joyce had been teasing her…she couldn’t help but feel her mother might be developing a predilection for British accents. Nope, definitely not of the good.
“I think Angel has offered his old place near the Bronze,” she threw in desperately, trying to derail her mother from getting too interested in having Spike under her roof.
“So,” Buffy interjected, striving hard to change the subject. “Thanksgiving. At Giles’s place. Whole gang. Got any recipes?” And they wandered into the kitchen, Joyce spouting all the hard and fast rules of serving up the perfect turkey and traditional accompaniments.
Chapter Eighteen
Spike sat on the sofa watching an old television set, trying to not turn every five minutes to look at the door. He knew that Buffy would be by, but the waiting was becoming intolerable. His easy acceptance of her in his life, and his need to see her felt almost too much to bear- especially after what had happened between them the previous night. He needed someone to relieve him from the Watcher’s endless questioning: how was he feeling? What differences could he identify from his previous lifestyle to now? What did his soul feel like? If not for the Watcher, though, he would have uninterrupted Angel time, and that was truly getting on his last nerve. As it stood, he was getting bloody desperate for Buffy to come barreling to his rescue.
“So, Buffy has taken on some of your guilt, then?” Giles queried.
“That’s what it felt like, an’ I don’ feel quite so overwhelmed now. Feel a bit sorry for ‘er, though.” Spike’s voice was gruff, trying without being too rude to get the Watcher’s questions to cease.
“That is just utterly fascinating.” Giles sucked on the end earpiece of his glasses thoughtfully. “I wonder if the Powers had this all marked out in the first place. I don’t believe that you were meant to suffer as you undoubtedly did the first time you received it.”
“Doesn’t feel right, though, does it?” Spike decided to just give in, recognising the perfect opportunity to try and solve some of his own riddles.
“How do you mean?”
“Well, few days ago I would ‘ave eaten you, no questions asked. Shouldn’t I be paying with pain and torment to make sure I’ve learned the bloody lesson and not go after human food now?”
Giles sat perplexed. “I think that this connection you have with Buffy, and even the reward of your soul, seems to have accelerated your progress. Do you want to eat me now? Or Buffy?”
Spike felt himself turn green, nauseated by the idea. But then the image of eating Buffy made him harden in his pants and he grinned wickedly at the Watcher.
“I m-mean kill. Not eat, kill. Yes, that is what I meant.” Giles cleared his throat and looked around the room on a sudden wave of embarassment.
“The thought of killin’ anyone right now, Rupert, makes me feel like stakin’ myself. But this meld thing, it makes me feel a bit wonky. I mean, I know who I was before, but now I ‘ave all these images of myself in love with the Slayer…risking my unlife for you lot, time and again. Somewhere in ‘ere I know that with the natural progression of things we would have gotten to this point, but I have these feelings like I ‘ave already experienced that life, and it scares the crap out of me ‘cause some of it was really ‘orrible. For all of us. I sorta don’ know which Spike I am anymore. Why couldn’t the Powers have let me know that?”
Spike had been sitting still too long and he jumped to his heavy boots and started pacing around the small room. Angel had remained quiet, casting gloomy looks toward his Childe, angry that Spike seemed to be having it so easy, and getting the girl to boot. Truthfully, he was silently more steamed that Spike got Buffy. He didn’t give her up for this. What could he do, though, if the PTB willed it? It seemed pretty obvious that Buffy wasn’t meant to be his final reward.
“What about Buffy? It isn’t fair that she has to know about all of your murdering frenzies from over the years.” Angel sat in the armchair; arms crossed over his chest, and glowered. Suddenly, he jumped to his feet.
“You know Giles, I think the crisis has been averted. Time for me to head on back to LA.”
Giles and Spike looked at him like he’d grown a second head.
“Ah Peaches, it’s still a bit sunny out there…” Spike let the suggestion hang in the air, and grinned in amusement when the pin finally dropped and Angel slumped back into his seat.
“I think I might go brew us some tea.” Giles clambered to his feet and thus made good his inspired escape to the kitchen.
Spike narrowed his eyes and turned a hard, bitter look on his Sire.
“You just gonna walk out and not even tell ‘er goodbye?”
Angel flinched.
“I’m not good with goodbyes,” was only answer as he looked anywhere in the room but at Spike.
They both jumped as the door slammed and Buffy came bouncing through.
“Angel, can Spike live at your old apartment near the Bronze?” Buffy turned a radiant smile to Angel as she took a seat on the sofa beside Spike.
“Ah, yeah. Sure. I guess so.” Angel stumbled, not really wanting Spike to have his place but not being able to think up a reasonable excuse to refuse off the top of his head.
“Oi, what’s wrong with the crypt?” Spike didn’t really want to live in Angel’s old place, either.
“No way, no crypt. If you don’t stay at Angel’s, then my mother wants you to stay at our house.”
“An’ what’s wrong with that? I like your mum.”
Buffy turned to him, determination stiffening every limb of her body.
“There is no way you will be staying alone in a house with my mom.”
“Right then.” Spike got to his feet, his eyes revealing his hurt belief that she didn’t trust him. “Angel’s it is.” And with that he headed to the study and his makeshift bed.
Buffy looked at Angel apologetically, shrugged her shoulders, and grinned.
“Hey,” she said as she suddenly thought of something. “Aren’t you usually asleep now? It isn’t even lunch time.”
“Spike wanted to watch television. Who could sleep through that?” He offered a conciliatory smile, glad that Spike hadn’t told her that he was about to leave again without saying goodbye.
“Shouldn’t he be sleeping, too?”
Angel raised an eyebrow and offered her his own little smirk. “You don’t know Spike too well yet, do you?”
“No. Not yet.” She gave an excited little giggle and headed after Spike.
She found him sitting in the middle of the pull out bed, eyes trained on the bare wall like he was studying the Mona Lisa. She crawled along the bed and kneeled beside his legs.
“You took it the wrong way, you know.” She reached over to take his hand and let out a breath of relief that he didn't pull away. He didn’t turn to look at her, but his thumb began to stroke the skin over her knuckles and a flame of pure heat shot through her.
“An’ what way did you mean?”
“She was interested in seeing what was underneath the leather,” Buffy told him, amusement making it difficult for her to not laugh. She squealed as he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her into his lap, his eyes single-mindedly focused on her lips.
“Is that right?”
Buffy was having her own trouble looking anywhere but at his full lips, licking her own in anticipation, suddenly knowing that she had never wanted anyone’s kiss quite as much as she did his. Never craved contact with anyone else’s mouth quite like this. Her heart was pounding as she felt herself drawn to him, magnetically attracted to his lips, no negative charge in sight.
“Yup,” she answered, and she was lost as her lips collided with his, her palms resting flat on his chest. With a subtle shift closer she opened her mouth and invited him to explore her heat further. His tongue stroked her bottom lip, causing shivers to erupt from every skin cell, and then dived into her mouth. Their tongues didn’t fight, knowing that this was a slow and steady kind of race, but her hands slid up to and around his neck in a similar motion as her tongue sought to entwine with his. She curled her fingers in his hair, mystified at its softness, and moaned loudly into his mouth at feeling the barest brush of fingertips stroke the skin under the hem of her top. She was undone, but glad that he took it slow, knowing she would go further if enticed, but not entirely sure if she was ready. After the Parker debacle, she felt a need to take things slowly.
Somewhere in the background they could hear the telephone ring, but it wasn’t until an embarrassed cough at the door had them pulling reluctantly apart. Giles stood in the doorway, frantically polishing his glass lenses, as he looked at the floor. And just like that, she was torn away form bliss again.
“What’s the what, Giles?” She turned to him, slowly extricating herself from Spike’s arms, and sat on the edge of the bed.
“Er, that was Willow. It would seem that she has had an unpleasant confrontation with Oz and the girl from that band, Veronica was it?”
“Veruca,” Buffy supplied, her heart sinking in sudden apprehension.
“Yes, quite. She asked you to go and meet her, Buffy. She sounded quite upset.”
Buffy gave a longing look to Spike, before leaning over to kiss him softly.
“I’ll be back soon,” she whispered against his lips. And then she was gone, Spike looking wistfully after her.
Chapter Nineteen
Buffy sat on Willow’s bed holding the redhead’s hand and wondered how everything had gone so wrong. It wasn’t like they hadn’t had warning. Willow had told her of her suspicions, but she had blown them off, trusting in Oz before her own best friend. Watching Willow’s tears fall and hearing her choked off sobs tore at Buffy’s heart, and she felt like slapping herself for her stupidity. She should have listened. Willow would not be so broken now if she had. She lay down beside her friend and pulled her into her arms, and they cried; Willow for lost love, and Buffy for lost friends. Infidelity was one thing, but Oz had killed now. Perhaps the boundaries were a little blurred because Veruca was also a wolf, but it was there all the same.
The two girls remained lying on the bed for a long time, the room remaining dark. They flinched when there was a knock on the door, and tacitly agreed to ignore it. Several minutes went by until Buffy began to feel the silence to be stifling- rather than reassuring- when in juxtaposition with the frenzied activity on the other side of the dorm door. She sat up and sent Willow a cautious smile.
“I should get to Giles’s and let him know what’s happened with Oz. Do you wanna come with? Or I could go get Tara to come sit with you?”
Willow shook her head no and forced a fake smile of conviction.
“No, I’m fine. Think I’ll just go to sleep.”
Buffy nodded sadly and left, clicking the door softly behind her. She turned and bumped into Riley.
“Oh!” She looked up at him and her mind went blank. “Um, Riley. What can I do for you?”
“Actually,” he stumbled, opening his mouth to say something then closed it quickly as if he had suddenly changed his mind. “I wanted to talk to Willow. Is she in?”
Buffy blinked in surprise, her mind on vacation, too tired and sad to think.
“Now’s not a good time. She needs some time on her own.”
“Oh, of course. So, Buffy, I was thinking that…”
“Look Riley, I’m sorry if I’m being rude, but I have to go and talk to someone about a situation. It’s rather important.” She saw his crushed face and suddenly remembered where this was leading to. “Look, we can have a coffee or something later, or when you get back from break?” She tried to smile, but her heart wasn’t in it. All of a sudden she felt an intense need to get back to Spike, to reassure herself that he was still here, that he still had a soul, and the whole love thing wasn’t just a dream she had made up over the last couple of nights.
“Sure, that sounds great.” Buffy blinked, surprised to find that she was still standing in front of him. “I’m leaving for Iowa tomorrow. Have some things to do first.”
“Okay,” she told him before tossing “Have a good holiday,” over her shoulder as she headed out of the dorm.
Once she got outside and crossed the grass to the road, she stopped and thought again of the image of Oz going for Willow. She almost hadn’t made it in time. If that commando hadn’t slammed into her then she could have been there to sedate both of them. Seeing the other wolf- Veruca- with her throat torn out was enough to make Buffy sick. Not because of the carnage, but because Willow would have been next. She was just grateful that Oz had been filled with enough rage and protectiveness toward his girlfriend to go for Veruca first. She shuddered to think how it might have been with both of them going for Willow. Luck had held out for the Scoobies once again.
With a jolt of insight, Buffy stopped her progress to Giles’s remembering the commando. Could he have been Riley? She didn’t know what to think of the Initiative, or more particularly Riley. She knew, due to the spell, what they were capable of, and what monster would be released because of her psycho lecturer, Dr. Walsh. But what about Riley? On the one hand, she was angry about the chip. The chip plus the experimentation they did on demons and the way they interfered with her job. But in the path her life had been on, before Spike was granted his soul ahead of schedule, she had forgiven Riley and allowed him to be part of the Scoobies while making sure Spike stayed on the periphery. With a little snort of amusement, she wondered where that word had sprung from and continued on her way. But if not for the chip, Spike could never have proven himself to her, fallen in love with her, and sought his soul for her. The world may not have been lost without him; Angel most likely would have been her champion. But that seemed wrong. Her heart told her that Spike was meant to be this vampire that she found now. He was meant for redemption. Ultimately, he was meant for her. Angel wasn’t, and never had been.
The thing was, Spike was different. Not just from getting his soul. Receiving it out of the blue, like Angel had received his, would have been devastating, and she had a sudden sympathy for the one hundred years of shame and grief Angel must have suffered after the curse; before he was able to get a handle on it and fight for good. No, the Spike she had been battling for the past year and a half would have been destroyed if it had happened in that way, rendered useless and insane. She recognised now that the Spike of now and the Spike of the future were blended in some way. And she was glad. Glad for so many things. She was glad that the Powers had returned to him his soul- that they had given Spike another chance at existence. That they had given both of them a chance at happiness and love.
Though the Scoobies didn’t know, she had learnt from the spell that their future did not embrace Spike. Not until it was too late. She had difficulty containing the revulsion she felt for herself, let alone her various friends, for the way they had been going to treat him. Not for the first time, she wondered how he could have loved her. She had felt his soul exist through the spell, and also when they gripped hands and allowed sparks to flame while at the Hellmouth, and she knew, deep in her gut, how profound his love for her was. She suddenly felt like a criminal at stealing this chance and his affection while knowing that she didn’t deserve it, but wanting it so much all the same.
She knew that it wasn’t just Spike who had been changed from this. She felt the residue of grief; for her mother, for being torn from heaven, from losing the man she loved before she could make him believe in her. But most of all, in the change of her personality and her spirit that allowed her to be cruel, and distant, and hateful. She wanted so much to change it all- starting with acceptance and tolerance for the little she understood even as the events of the day made her stumble.
Things she had never really thought of started to tumble rapidly though her mind. Oz had a demon, Oz had now killed; did he have a soul? Anya was a demon, she had done worse than all, existing for so much longer than even Angel, and she had not shed a single tear for her past. Did she have a soul? And if they did have them, and they weren’t distraught over their activities- past or present- how could she be sure that Spike wouldn’t fall with one? That his guilt wouldn’t remain motivating? He had already shown more remorse than Anya, and she herself knew what he had to pay for, visions of his past flashing periodically behind her eyes, causing rivers of freezing ice to grate against her spine. She was learning to block, but the horror was inescapable sometimes. But she would embrace it, if only to lighten his load. For they would need him strong, and focused, and loving.
Ah, the things one does for love. And that thought brought her up sharp. That was the whole point. She loved him. Not in the future, but now. But these feelings frightened her. She might have let go of her fantasy reunion with Angel; she knew that she belonged now with Spike, but something held her back. Not that she could remember that when she laid eyes on him, or better, when he kissed her. When that happened she felt transformed, and all her fears melted away. And in a sudden epiphany, she had it. She still clung to those images of being left; by her father, by Angel, and the melded images of Riley and her mother. Her hesitation had a human background, nothing supernatural that she should be on her guard about. So, with a sigh of relief, she continued on to her destination: Spike.
Chapter Twenty
Buffy was both surprised and grateful to find Xander already at Giles’s when she finally got there. There were no surprise reactions at the news of Oz, but a round of bowed heads shared in the sorrow that their friend was now experiencing.
“Do you think Willow will be okay on her own, Buffy?” Giles, the paternal figure of the group, was naturally concerned for her welfare, but it was with awkwardness that he contemplated any sympathetic gesture.
“Best to leave her alone when she has had that kind of heartbreak,” suggested Spike and Buffy took his hand in hers for her own comfort. She ducked her head in resignation as soon as Xander opened his mouth, predicting correctly when his snarky comments hit the room.
“Well, you’d know all about heartbreak, wouldn’t you, Evil Dead? Let’s hope Willow doesn’t rush out and grab some poor unsuspecting witch and her buddy to threaten to death unless they produce a love spell.”
Spike scoffed. “I let them find you, didn’ I?”
“That is so not the point right now. And Xander, the spell thing? Already in the out basket.”
Xander’s eyes widened in shock.
“She did a spell?”
“I think she was going to do a spell. She was in the lab when I found Oz, and there were broken test-tube thingies on the bench. Either she failed or she decided against it. I didn’t want to ask her that on top of everything else. We took Oz to the cage and went back to our room. She really didn’t speak much. But Giles…” Buffy turned to find his head still in his hands and she felt anxiety over all the things they had had to deal with in the past couple of days. “That witchy stuff? I think you need to get on it- like- soon. Oh, and one of those Initiative guys got in my way. I nearly didn’t get there in time. We need to close that show down before their evil Frankenstein decides to take it on the road.”
Numerous heads around the room began to nod wearily and Buffy suddenly realised that it had been days since she had last patrolled. She let go of Spike’s hand and stood, taking a stake from her jacket pocket, she twirled it experimentally.
“Think I should head out, stake a few vamps, follow a few commandos. Oh!” A sudden memory coloured her voice in disappointment. “I saw Riley when I left earlier. I think a lot of the Initiative are heading out for Thanksgiving, so there might not be anyone out there patrolling tonight.”
Spike jumped up in front of her. “No reason for me not to come out with you then, is there, gorgeous?” His enticing grin held no prisoners.
Buffy’s logical argument for him to stay put died right there on her lips, her body tingling ferociously from him calling her gorgeous. As if under a spell- his spell- she let him tug her hand and they left the flat, quickly disappearing into the dark.
Xander was still staring at the closed door, waving his finger while pointing for all he was worth, and swivelled in his chair to address Giles.
“There’s no way that doesn’t wig you out!”
Giles looked up, finally surrendering his patience, and barked out impatiently. “He’s actually very interesting to talk to.”
Xander was beyond surprised. “So, what? We just sit back and let Captain Peroxide seduce the Buffster?”
Angel had remained quiet throughout the previous revelations, his discomfort at being on the edge of their lives beginning to wear.
“There is no seduction going on.” Angel had never been a fan of Xander’s, and despite his recent estrangement from Spike, he was family, and one defended family. “This hasn’t just happened. Spike is here because the PTB wanted him to be here. With her. I hate it. You hate it. I bet Giles hates it. But she doesn’t. Are you really going to stand in her way? Besides, he saves the world. Can you begrudge him his reward for being on your side?”
“I can begrudge anything if he doesn’t keep his filthy hands to himself.”
Giles looked concerned at Xander’s bitterness. “What is really the problem, Xander? Buffy told you that Spike saves your life a number of times. He even saves one of your eyes. Don’t you think it would be better to let fate have its way and perhaps change the future, or do you want some of the ghastly things she told us to happen just to keep her away from him? Surely you can see their connection? I would say that it seems destined.” He stopped a moment, pulling a hanky from his pocket and began to polish his glasses. “I’m not sure you could pull them apart now, anyway.”
“She would never have been yours,” Angel informed him bitterly. Gracefully exiting his chair, he made his way out of the flat and into the night like his Childe and ex-girlfriend before him.
Xander blustered in denial as soon as the door was closed. “I’m not jealous.”
“Oh, just shut it, Xander. We both know that you are. I would remember that you have a very attractive girlfriend if I were you. Maybe you should go find her.” And Giles left him to head to his room, suddenly feeling very lethargic. He sighed gratefully when he heard the front door click closed.
~@~@~
Buffy and Spike wandered through busy streets on their way to a quieter graveyard, their fingers tangled shyly together and arms swinging between them. Every so often Buffy would sneak a sideways glance at him, marveling at how his hair shone in the lamplight. Shone? More like it glowed, she chuckled to herself. Occasionally she caught him taking a quick glance at her, and she would smile secretly, amused at their timid approach toward each other. They had kissed, and touched each other’s skin, and yet they remained shy.
This was so different, she thought. And she was so happy. It felt a little like when she thought she was moving on with Parker, the subtle flirting heating her blood and filling her with excitement and a rush of pure adrenaline. It was probably the happy and adrenaline that tricked her into believing Parker’s lines; but this happy? So much better. It was more. It was beyond the edge of falling: it was of the fallen. She was too late to grab it with both hands; it had already fused with all her living tissue, filling her as if by osmosis. She was complete with his love, his affection.
Oh yeah, she was definitely happy.
While the Buffy side of her strolled along lazily swinging hands with her love, the Slayer part was scanning for any threat, both to humanity as well as to Spike. It wouldn’t do to be outnumbered now in a fight he couldn’t take part in to protect himself. Even though she knew that the Initiative would be small in numbers right now, she was still nervous about Spike being recaptured. The thought brought upon her a sense of melancholy and Buffy felt her guilt return for forgetting what her friend was going through right now. It was as if the night had fallen a couple of degrees, and her excitement dimmed a little.
But not quite completely she discovered when Spike stopped her and pulled her into his arms.
“Red will be fine. I know that. You know that. Don’t forget about Tara.” It astounded her how he seemed to always know what she was thinking, and she felt suddenly alarmed that he could pick up her feelings as well. That could be embarrassing.
She snuggled into his chest, loving the feel of his strong arms protecting her from the outside and grateful to have that buffer for the first time. She was used to being the strong one: the one to rush in at just the right moment to save the day, save her friends, and save the world. No one had ever saved her before. Not even Angel really, except for that one time when he got that potion thing to stop her hearing everyone’s thoughts. Knowing that Spike had always be there to hold her- well, at least the future her- made it seem so much easier to melt in his arms now, made her feel more complete. Who said knowing the future was a bad thing?
She pulled a little away so that she could look up at him and felt herself be lost in Spike’s eyes. The intense urge to tell him her feelings took hold, and suddenly little bees buzzed annoyingly in her stomach. Her ears were filled with a rush, and as she opened her mouth to speak, she was pushed to the ground with a force that knocked her breathless.
“You alright, luv?” Spike asked, his concern evident in the way his hands smoothed out her clothes.
She was stunned silent. He didn’t wait for an answer, pulling her away again and she suddenly worked out that the rushing in her ears, was actually a vamp flying past her in a badly projected leap.
That did it! No stupid vamp was interfering in her moment. And without any thought, her stake embedded into the chest of the idiot as he again tried to leap and tackle her to the ground. She closed her eyes as dust hit her full in the face. In disgust she spat the dust from her mouth and wiped down her shirt.
As she reached for his hand again, hoping that they could recapture the moment, she knew it was gone as the black clad form of Angel joined their little huddle.
“Hey,” she offered weakly in greeting, Spike offering nothing but a tormented humph beside her.
Angel looked back and forth before explaining his presence.
“Thought I might head back to LA tonight. You Scoobies are too exciting for me.” He laughed unconvincingly, and though Buffy didn’t want him to go just yet, she suspected that it hurt him to see her with Spike and decided to say nothing of it.
“Yeah, we are an exciting bunch. Tomorrow we’re all set to hunt down puppies and scarf down cookies.” She smiled as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Wanna help us patrol before you go? You know, just in case we come across any more Initiative soldiers.”
“Sure,” he told her, ignoring Spike’s annoyed glare, and they all three became one with the night, searching and destroying all threats as they came across them. No Initiative soldiers were to be seen.
Later, as Buffy waved and watched the taillights of Angel’s car disappear down the street, she said goodbye to a love that was never meant to be.
To be continued
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