AFFINITY
Chapters 43-45


Written by: Ginny
Author's Website






Summary: Buffy can't be all work and no play. And Spike loves to play. Part One may contain spoilers for "Doublemeat Palace." You've been warned. Part Three may contain spoilers for "Dead Things."
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon & Company.
Feedback: ginmar@earthlink.net






Chapter 43



Buffy was left staring between Wesley, Angel, and Spike. Then, gradually, what Wes had said sunk in, and she turned and looked at Angel. It was several seconds before she could talk.  “It…What? It didn’t work? What? You have a soul, they don’t…they don’t…run out of….batteries…! What do you mean, it didn’t…?!”

Angel shrank away, leaning against the wall as if he was afraid of an ambush from behind. “Buffy---“

She was beyond speech, staring at him, and he knew enough to realize that it was going to be unpleasant when she remembered how to talk again. “It’s just that….” He gritted his teeth. “There was so much stuff going on, all last year. It didn’t happen over night. It all just crept up on me, and---and---I couldn’t talk about it.”

Buffy stared up at him, her eyes huge. Not going to say anything, she thought. Mom died; you came for the funeral and that was it. Was that when you disappeared? After Mom died?  Oh, God, she had lived on the memory his visit for months, using it to console herself, using it to keep her spirits up, what with Riley gone…. But somehow, she hadn’t called him. It had been so hectic all that year, with Dawn, and Mom, ---oh, and Spike, always around, always complicating things….She turned and looked at Spike, her expression unreadable.

“Angel,” Wes said reproachfully. “Why did you think that?” Angel shook his head impatiently, and Wes did the same.  “We were…always there.”

“It’s so easy for you to talk, Wes.” He said quietly. “It’s never been easy for me. Never. Who should I talk to? Who could possibly understand? I mean, is there a—a---group for vampires with souls? I mean, maybe if there were, I could…”  Wes sighed, very softly, flinching away from meeting Angel’s eyes. “What would I tell you? I know!” He looked around fiercely. “Yeah, I can put this all into words. Really. Because it wouldn’t any of you uncomfortable at all.”    

Angel cleared his throat nervously, and looked around. Wes cleared his throat as well, and visibly looked for tact, still not meeting the vampire’s eyes. “Angel….We were all your friends. No matter what.”

    “Yeah, in that uneasy we’re-friends-with-a-vampire-who-might-go-evil soon way. It’s so relaxing.”

     Wes shook his head again, disbelief coloring his face with wonder. “Is that what you think? Why would you think that?”

was his, I could understand him feelin’ that nervous about it, I really can. But it’s not something you’d have to worry about, would you then? I’m kind of flattered you’d think so, but really, mate, there’s lots of people should be higher up on the list than me.” It gradually dawned on him that his little speech had not sounded quite as anti-something or other as it should have, and he glanced around to assess the reaction. Everyone looked rather blank. He shrugged. “Like I said, you’d only have to worry if it was your kid. Then I expect you’d have to give out numbers…” Buffy was eyeing him with an unreadable expression that he was afraid would turn out to mean: You’re sleeping on the couch.  There were far too many people looking at him. “Besides, how stupid do you have to be to figure out that two vampires can’t…”? Behind him, Buffy gave a little gasp, and straightened up abruptly from leaning against the wall.

    “Imperfect happiness.” She stared at Angel, dazed, before turning to look at Spike. “What did you say?”

    “About what? Oh.” He tried to remember what Dru had said. “Him and Darla.”

    For the second time, Buffy was beyond speech. Her mouth dropped open as she stared at Angel, and it was like she was looking at him for the first time. She remembered, uneasily, having the same feeling about Spike, some time after he’d defied Glory, and it was the same sensation, but not in a good way. It was like her skin was electrified by his presence, but with Spike it was a good feeling. Now? She had goose bumps as her nerve endings realized things before her brain processed them. “Darla? Darla? Not that Darla, right? She’s dead. She’s…tacky.  She’s….She’s….I saw you stake her.”

    “There were some people that brought her back.” Angel said quietly. “As a human.”

    Buffy gulped for air, then steadied herself. “Oh, and do you think you could have told me? I mean, how many times did she try to kill me? And how many times did she try to kill me before you finally killed her?  Might have been nice to know somebody else who wanted to kill me was back. I mean, I like to keep a list. Even if she’s human, she could still, like, get a gun and make me follow her fashion advice. What else is there? I mean, you didn’t mention her, what else did you …miss?”

    “ Well….” Angel took a deep breath. “She’s not…she wasn’t…human long. She, um….Well…when she was turned,  originally,  she was ill with syphilis. When they brought her back, she still had it. It was killing her.” His voice was a monotone, colorless and practically without inflection.

    “Did it?” Buffy snapped.

     “Did it what?”

     “Did it kill her?”  

     “No.” Angel took a deep breath again. “So they found Dru and Dru turned her back.”

   Everyone stared at him. “So, yes, that was my stressful year.” He said bitterly. He shot a look at Buffy.

    Spike grinned at him. “Why stop there, mate? Isn’t there more?”

    Angel looked from Buffy’s face to Spike’s, and had to look away. “I didn’t come back after you died, because I’ve already lost you so many times already. I’ve lost count. Everybody’s gone. Everybody. I outlived them all, and with you…it was threal>     “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me everything is fine. Tell me you totally trust me now, and there’s no reason to be suspicious. I mean, aside from the fact that I fired all of you guys and….”

       Everyone in the room looked up at Angel at the same moment. “Maybe they disapproved of you and Darla.” Spike said tightly. He caught Buffy’s twitch out of the corner of his eye, but decided not to distract himself with it. “A good influence there, mate. Maybe that was it.”

   Angel ripped around with a snarl, but Spike surprised him by meeting him halfway. “Chip doesn’t work on vampires.” He said. “What does it say on your warranty?”

     “I should have staked you when I had the chance.”

     “Your idea of a chance is when you’ve got the good odds, you wanker.” Spike slouched away and leaned against the wall next to Buffy. “Don’t have them now, do you?”

   Angel looked around and wound up looking at Wes. Wes stared back, trying to look encouraging. “You know,” Angel said desperately. “I came here to try and help.”

    “Christ.” Spike said. “You came here because you’re pissed that Buffy---“

    Angel snarled at him again, and Spike grinned, straightening up lazily and showing every tooth he had. “Why does it matter so much to you, anyway? You haven’t been keepin’ anybody here on the Christmas card list, even though it might have done some real good for some people. Would have been nice, you know.” Once again, he eased forward, as if the floor was mined, and he was afraid of hitting something that could explode. “Suppose you were too busy fighting the good fight, weren’t you? Helping the helpless and all?”

    “Well, yeah, I guess the person I want to discuss morals with would be you, wouldn’t it, William.” Angel spat out. “Because a couple of years makes you think you’re a man, is that it?”

    “No,” Spike said quietly, so that only Angel could hear. “She does.”

    “So, uh, Angel,” Xander said.  “You adopted a kid?” He looked around, seeking support. “I mean, uh, why? What’s the big deal?” He shrugged, embarrassed to be the focus of so many eyes. “The kid’s human, right? So Spike can’t hurt him, if that’ s what you’re worried about. Besides, I don’t think Spike would want to, anyway. That was not a nice thing,” he assured Spike, as Spike’s expression gradually moved from puzzlement to full-out exasperation. “It’s just an observation. Kids aren’t fun to hurt, are they? So Spike wouldn’t…uh….” It occurred to him that Buffy, who had been in some kind of private reverie, had abruptly snapped out of it and was staring at him.”….wouldn’t, uh, hurt them.”

    “No, they’re easy.” Anya observed matter-of-factly. “But no one’s tried it with Britney Spears yet.” She deflated with disappointment.

    “Uh, hey!” Hallie waved one hand delicately.  “Justice Demon, here. Child abuse is not funny.”

     “Unless it’s Mary Kate and--” Xander said. He suddenly found himself the focus of the sort of stares he thought he’d left behind in high school. “Oh, hell, never mind. But I wasn’t wrong, was I?”

    “No, you’re not.” Spike said reluctantly. “If I wanted to hurt Angel, I could, and why go through the brat? I know the bloke’s got pretensions, but not even a vampire with his taste in clothes is ge times, over and over again. It never gets easier to watch, Buffy. Knowing I can’t do anything, can’t stop you from doing the things that will get you killed?” He rounded bitterly on Spike. “Darla was somebody I thought wouldn’t die, but she did. I was just so happy to have her back.” The two vampires stared at one another. “See how you like it, when you have to live without somebody, when you have to watch them die.”

   Spike glared back. “I already have,” he icily. “Oh, that’s right, you weren’t here to see it. Guess you were suffering, though---when there were witnesses.” Angel looked away, from both Buffy and Spike, but Buffy never looked away. Everyone else was staring uncomfortably elsewhere, but Buffy could not take her eyes off his face. Well, there’s another uncomfortable silence, she thought.

   “Come on,” she said suddenly. She reached out and grabbed his hand, and although a muscle in Spike’s jaw tightened, he stepped back.  She yanked Angel with her out the front door, leaving Spike staring at the front door as it slammed behind them.

    Buffy leaned against the railing and looked up at Angel, who leaned against the front door and gave no indication of going any further onto the porch. He doesn’t even want to get close to me, she thought. “All right. You had a bad year, and I had an…awful year. We could have helped each other, but we didn’t.” She was startled, then, by the tears that flooded her eyes. Thought they were all gone, she thought. Hoped I’d used them all up.

   Angel swallowed. “I thought you had Riley.”

   “Yeah, so did I.”

   “What happened there?”

   “Well, the Slayer thing was…too much for him. He didn’t feel like I needed him. And you were a factor.”

    “I—was? I was?”

   “You sure don’t sound upset.”

   “I didn’t like him.”

   “I’m trying to be mature here.”

   “Then why Spike? Why? Why him?”

     Why Spike what? She thought, but that was just an automatic response. “How do I answer that, when I don’t even know what it is myself?”  He’s different from you, she thought. Is that it? I always know what he’s thinking, whether I want to or not.  He sure doesn’t agree with me, but he never goes and does shit for my own good---unless I’m dead at the time. She looked at him closely as another thought occurred to her. Yeah, when he does stuff for my own good…it is for my own good. He sure didn’t tell me about watching Dawn and fighting with the gang. The first thing he did tell me was how he’d screwed up trying to save Dawn. How come you weren’t helping? How come I can’t even say this stuff? Something in her balked at justifying Spike to Angel, trying to describe the formless intimacy they had, the way he seemed to understand her in ways she didn’t even understand herself, irritating thought it was.  And I’m not explaining Spike to Angel when he’s not exactly gushing out his Darla explanation and all, came a resentful thought.  Especially then. Especially then  “I can’t lie to him,” she said quietly. “He won’t let me. So maybe it just gets harder and harder to lie to…myself… and to other people. Like…No matter how painful it gets. Angel, Angel, you…you…get so uncomfortable with stuff that you take off. You don’t finish stuff. ” Of course, Spike never lets stuff go, she thought, so talk about reacting to that tendency by going off and picking the opposite extreme.  “You just leave. Maybe it’s not…like, you leave the vicinity, you know, but you just sort of take yourself out. Away.  You just escape. You should have called me.”

    “And told you what?  ‘Oh, hi, sorry to interrupt you with something else you need to worry about, along with Joyce dying, and a God being in town….but guess what? I’ve finally reached the end of my two-hundred-year-old tether, and I’m about to explode.’ ” There was a great deal of desperation in his eyes when he looked back at her. “Maybe I’ll go evil again. That’s just what everyone is waiting for, anyway. Why don’t I just shorten the wait?”

    “No, you wouldn’t.” Buffy said quietly, certain. She was startled when he laughed bitterly.

    “You’re so sure, aren’t you? Which is nice, because I’m not. I’m not at all.” He cocked his head at her, a gesture eerily reminiscent of Spike’s, except on him it was not quizzical, it was almost threatening.  The hairs on the back of her neck were standing up. Am I afraid of him?  “Why are you so certain I won’t go bad?” He asked quietly.

   “Well, uh, you’re good…” He stared into her eyes, and she flushed. “Well, then there’s the other thing…”

    “The other thing?” He stepped forward and grabbed her by the upper arms. “The other thing? Oh, the other thing?! This thing?” And with that, he kissed her, hard. Almost before it started, it was gone. He was back, rigid against the door, hands jammed in coat pockets. “That thing? That thing that makes me go all evil? That thing that you don’t have to worry about with Spike? Tell me, Buffy, have you told your friends about Spike? All of them?  Sat them down and told them all the details? Called Giles?”

   She lifted one hand and slowly brushed it across her lips. He really did that, he really just did it like that. All the times he kissed me, and he did it like that….

   “Why should I? You haven’t told me about Darla.” She squared her shoulders. “I will if you will.”  He’ll never go for it.

    “Great. Just great.”

   “You said it, yourself.”

   “Okay, then. Here goes. Truth or dare.” He licked his lips. “I didn’t adopt Connor.”

   “O…kay.” Buffy deflated slightly, having been waiting for something…significant.

   “He’s mine.”

   “He’s…yours?”

   “Mine. Mine and Darla’s.”

     Buffy didn’t even try to conceal her amazement. ”Yours. And Darla’s. Yours. Yours? Yours and Darla’s?  Okay, this is significant  

     He shrugged, almost modestly. “Some sort of prophecy.” She tried to decide how much of it was masculine pride at fatherhood, and how much of it was the experienced humility of someone long accustomed to being special.

    “Two vampires…have a baby Two vampires and a baby. It sounds like a sitcom.” She kept shaking her head.  Guess I better start using birth control after all.  Between headshakes, she stared up at him. “You have a baby…You have a baby!…with a vampire!….and you’re still angry about me and Spike?”

    He had been jittery with tension, but now it abruptly drained away, leaving him slumped against the door. “Darla was….someone familiar to me. Someone safe. I thought. Someone who could live forever, and not…. You’re not safe for me, or anyone else. And Darla…she couldn’t…give birth. Not normal. She killed herself for him. So he could live. And you know what?” He blinked at the floor of the porch. “I never thought I could be a father…but…I wished….I wished…” He swallowed tightly. “ I was so isolated. I was so lonely. I should be grateful just for this, but you…I wished it was you.”

    Is this what it feels like when people betray you? All the little ones and now this? She thought. She couldn’t even form complete thoughts. Darla? Darla and him?  Darla? She tried to kill me. So did Spike, but that’s different. She tried to kill me. He didn’t even think of that, did he? Someone familiar? In the sense that you romped across Europe, killing people for hundreds of years, and that she kept trying to lure you back? But what….You got lonely? Lonely? Why on earth wouldn’t I want to know? Lonely? You were lonely?! I got lonely! Read a book!  She shook her head at him, almost more disappointed than angry. You let it get bad, she thought, so you have an excuse to explode. There’s always an excuse. Leaving? You had an excuse, but I didn’t want you to. But there was an excuse.

    She saw Spike’s face as he first realized it was her, back from the grave. What would Angel have done? And why wasn’t he there? Realization hit her. He was busy with other things. Well, if those things were so important, more important than her, then she wasn’t significant enough to be this angry over, either. Darla. She shook her head again, almost amused, in a ghastly I-won’t-be-bitter way.

   She stared up at him, eyes wide and stunned. “It was Darla. Wonderful…but…. Darla? And, oh, what, the fact that she tried to kill me over and over just didn’t seem to be a big thing when you were lonely?”

   “Spike tried to kill me, too, you know.”

   “Yeah, but you’re a vampire, Angel. I’m human. Darla could do stuff to me that Spike couldn’t do to you.” Like choose my outfits, she thought. God, do not laugh. I must not laugh.    .

   “I shouldn’t have told you.”

   “No, you should have told me a LONG TIME AGO! Do you think I’d be this pissed off if I’d heard this a bit at a time, instead of all at once? Darla!” She paced away from him now, waving her hands in the air, not even aware of having moved.  “But if you had, you wouldn’t have felt lonely enough or whatever enough to give you an excuse to go---do that! If you had called me, I could have come down and we could have talked, instead of you just getting worse and worse…and doing what you wanted. You wanted to, I know it.  I would have,” she added forlornly. “If you needed me, I would have come right away.”

    “Yeah, look what happened last time.”

    “I’m sorry Spike followed Oz that time, but don’t even try to tell me you’re pissed about me giving you the Gem of---What?” He glanced away, avoiding her eyes, and she stepped back into his line of vision. “What? What can you possibly find wrong with that?”

   “There was the other thing.”

    “What other---oh, that.”  Thanksgiving. “You know, you were the one sneaking around then, why couldn’t you have just told me, okay? It was too painful for you, but I would have liked to see you. I had to go all the way to LA to see you. You think I came just to chew you out? I just..”  She spread her hands out in appeal. “I just wanted to see you again. That’s all. You didn’t seem too happy about seeing me, though.”

   He swallowed and looked down.

    “Angel, maybe the reason it’s so painful is because you just never deal with it. You know, you came up here, and you snuck around, but we could have just talked. It just gets bigger and bigger, and then, boom! I mean, I’m not Chatty Cathy, but….” She rolled her eyes at the heavens, as if appealing for divine intervention, but the effect was somewhat spoiled by the fact they were on the porch, and she was looking at the porch light.

   Angel looked down at the floorboards. “Buffy, I don’t want to deal with it, okay? You do, but I don’t. There’s too much. People use it against me.  I have a lot more to deal with, you know? And I dealt with it badly, I know that…”

    Maybe they should use it against you, she thought. No. I didn’t just think that, didn’t happen. Did not do that. Did not think that.   

   “You have to deal with it!” She exclaimed. “You have to! You can’t just sulk, you have to get up and deal with it. If you don’t deal with it, then I have to, and everybody else has to. It’s hard enough for me now, Angel. I mean, I’ll help you, but I have to know it’s coming. It’s not easy for me, either. All I need is some..preparation. You see what I mean. Spread it out or something. You can’t just spring it on me.” She stared furiously at her toes for a minute. “How old is Connor?”

   “Seven weeks.”    

   Her lips tightened, and she whirled around and faced the street.

   Behind her, he stared at her back, more confused than he’d ever been in two and a half centuries. That’s why nobody wants to be good, he thought. You have to think all the time. All you have to do when you’re evil is not think.

   She turned back and looked at him. “You’re really pissed off at me, aren’t you?”

  “What? About Spike…” He flinched from her glare, studying his shoes. “About that, yes.”

    “Well, do I have to start the whole thing about Darla, then? But anyway, why are you so pissed? I was asking you that before, and you never told me.”

   “I’m not…”

   “Yeah, you are.”

   “No, I’m not, except for Spike.”

    “Well, I’m pissed about Darla.” She said quietly. “So we’re even.” He finally lifted his eyes. “I’m probably never going to have a baby, you know that, right?”

   “Why? Because….”

    “I’m a Slayer, Angel, not a superhero. Not a vampire with a soul. Us Slayers, we’re expendable. I’m not special.  I’m…just temporary. There’s no significance to me, except maybe in the footnotes. When I die permanently, somebody will take my place. You can live forever, but I can’t. I could get pregnant, but a pregnant Slayer? It could get me killed. How would I even know I’d live long enough to even have the baby? So, no, no babies for me. No future, either, really. All I have is now. You have forever.”  She glared at him again. “So I don’t have time to waste with people who won’t try. So try, Angel. Because this is the last chance you’ll get.”

    Crickets chirped in the yard. From a distance, they could hear the sound of a fire engine. The leaves rustled in the trees. 

    He spread his hands helplessly.

    “That’s not trying.”

    He sighed and looked up the same way she had. A car drove by on the street. “It’s just…”

   “What?”

   “It’s just that…I would like it if I didn’t still love you.” He said quietly. “It would be so nice if I didn’t feel this way. I’m not…a good person. Not good enough to be good, even when I try as hard as I can. But I’m really good at being bad. Everything I do… I was a rotten human being, too.” She was frowning at him, he saw, and he rushed on ahead.

   “When you and I were together…” He swallowed and looked away. She saw that, and that hurt her. Look at me, she thought. Show me what it is that you feel. Why are you hiding this from me?

     “When you and I were together….I felt good. I felt like I understood why people want to be good, not because they get credit for it, but because it makes it easier for somebody they love. I felt human. I felt like…I didn’t have to be perfect. I remember everything.” He said softly. “Everything about you…Everything I can’t be around anymore, because it hurts to be near you and know what the consequences are. All I want to do now is forget. I don’t want to remember you, Buffy, but I do. Every day I do. I used Darla. I know that. And maybe I used you, too. But I used you to make me happy. You made me happy for a while. I’ve never felt that way before. I don’t think I will again. That’s why I don’t want to remember. That’s why I wasn’t here. Being with you made me better, but….being away from you makes me…..I…” He shrugged uncomfortably. “Maybe I’m mad you’re happy without me. It’s just that…Darla was all there is for me. I can’t be around you, Buffy.  We shouldn’t have gotten involved. I should have…You made me want all the things I can’t have. I didn’t even imagine them before you. Now I do. Every day.  And they’re not possible, because I know what could happen. That’s all there is to it.”

   She tried to forget what it felt like to be dead, but she did remember effortlessly the first shocking moment back, the first breath drawn, the first glimpse of light. She remembered her first kiss, and her first love. Despite everything, she couldn’t find it in her heart to regret loving him, because how could she have known what would happen? And now…Oh, God, this is over, she thought. It’s all changed for me, he changed it. I can’t go back.

  “Are you…sorry?” She whispered. “Are you sorry we…?”

   Angel looked into her eyes, finally. She tried to see what he was thinking, something she always thought she could do. “Buffy….” He said. “I can’t be around you. You make me…think all kinds of things. I remember you every day, Buffy. Every day. But….”

 She stared up at him, and it seemed that everything that happened over the past year telescoped and hit her all at once. There had been pressure everywhere, and one of the few bright spots had been his presence at the funeral.  With Mom gone, Glory on the rampage, she had clung to Giles and the Scoobies, and the pure memory of him. Now he was lost to her, taking his memory with him.  “Oh, God, Angel…Just don’t…” It wasn’t so much distance she crossed as time, wiping away a year, and winding up as she had so many times before, crying on his coat front, quietly and hard, the way strong people always did. She was seventeen again, and Angel was potential in her arms, not regret. They had kissed at her mother’s grave side, and now she wondered if she had pushed him.  What did he do afterward? She thought, but it flashed away and vanished.

    The funny thing about crying storms was that they were like those weird summer showers than erupted suddenly and vanished just as fast. Crying was supposed to make you feel better, because it got rid of all the tension. Bullshit, she thought. Nothing erases all the tension of this. She lifted her head and looked up and he looked down. She sniffled, and stepped back, adulthood restored, to find herself eyeing a hankie that Angel had produced from some pocket. She took it ruefully, blew her nose, and then realized that she had no idea what was the polite thing to do. Nothing like realizing that you needed to maintain distance from your ex to protect you both, she thought. Yay for maturity.

   When in doubt, retreat. She stepped further back, then smacked him. “You could have avoided all this, just by sending out an announcement!” Distance restored, she retreated further. “Cards and letters are your friends, you know?”

   “Yeah, well, this is one of those situations where Spike is actually right.” He shoved his hands even further into his pockets and tried to grin at her. It looked like someone had pasted the expression on his face.  “If I should take out an announcement about anything, it’s that.” I get my wish, he thought. Now we get to pretend to be friendly exes. I get to go away. 

    “Yeah, well,” Buffy muttered, “It looks like both of us are going to have to make announcements, aren’t we?”

    “Are we?”

    “Yes, we are.” She took a deep breath, that, dammit, did not tremble at all. “Because, you know, I just kind of thought of something.” She glared up at him briefly. “Now you told me, and---and----I have to tell them, don’t I? Of course,” she added, “you have to tell them, too. Fair’s fair.”




*~*~*~*~*~*



Chapter 44


  D’Hoffryn had just scored a particularly triumphant hotel sweep when Spike cleared his throat. Loudly. It was so loud, and so fake, that slowly, everyone’s eyes paused on the Monopoly board and then in tiny increments looked up. Angel and Buffy had crept back into the house, Buffy with her hands jammed in her back pockets, and Angel with his crossed in front of his crotch, the look of a man who subconsciously feared an all-too-immanent kick in the crotch.  From the discomfort displayed by both of them, it looked as if he might have good reason for that fear.  Buffy looked as if she’d just received a shock, and Angel had the pained look of a man who’d  expected to deliver one and might have gotten one himself.

  Five expectant faces stared up at them. Spike stared at the ground, and scuffed around with one boot, as if drawing patterns in non-existent dirt.

   “Okay, I give up.” Xander said. “This is not good, this silent stuff. What is it, another apocalypse?”

   “Well.” Buffy said.

   “Well,” Angel said faintly.

   “You know...”

   “Yeah.” Angel sighed.

   “Uh...”Buffy swallowed and looked at the ground, just as Spike finally looked up. Finding her looking down, he swallowed, too, and then went back to staring at the floor.   “Angel and I were catching up.” She said firmly. Too firmly.  “A lot of water...Uh. Under the bridge.”

   “Yeah.” Angel agreed. “A lot. Better than over the...Uh. Bridge.  Well, anyway....”

   “Well, and there’s some stuff we got caught up on...”

   “Oh.” Anya said briskly. “Like the whole year?”

   “Yes, the whole year.” Buffy said gratefully. “And the...baby.” At that, Angel jerked as if he’d been jabbed with a cattle prod. Buffy cast a suspicious glance at Spike, but he had the virtuous look of a vampire who’d never told a lie about laundry in his life.  

   “Yeah.” Angel said. “Not to mention the whole....inappropriate love life.”

   Spike perked up and raised his eyebrows at Buffy. “Well,” Buffy said. “I guess everybody’s got a lot to talk about, then, don’t we?”

    Angel regarded her thoughtfully for a long moment. “Some more than others.”

   Buffy stared at him and slowly and surely, felt adrenalin cook through her veins. “Yeah, Angel, I guess there’s some lessons nobody ever learns, right? I mean, what have I got to fall back on? Should I try and pick some nice guy? I did that three times and they all turned evil. Well, maybe not evil, but....not nice.” How scary is it when a vampire starts acting human, and it means he stops returning your calls and dumps you?  She thought. Some vampires, she amended, glancing at Spike. With a mental shake, she returned to the subject at hand. “Then I picked the evil guy and he turned nice. All you did was trade up to somebody who’s temporarily human. Oh, yeah, and she tried to kill me a bunch of times and you didn’t care! And,” she muttered, “she dressed like a schoolgirl. A tacky schoolgirl.Ugh. Lolita much?”

   “She’s not the only person who tried to kill you,” Angel said, starting to get mad. It’s different, he thought, not quite sure how, but certain that it was. I bet there’s a prophecy about it.   “But I guess it’s only okay if it’s....“

   “Yeah, Spike’s tried to kill Buffy a whole bunch of...”Xander said happily, then stopped as if he’d slapped up against a big brick wall. “Okay, why am I disliking this conversation all of a sudden?”

   “Because it’s boring?” D’Hoffryn muttered. “Because neither one will---“  Buffy, Spike, and Angel all glared at him. “Sorry, but you... you....humans. Look at that friend of yours who’s a witch. She didn’t have any determination. She would have made such a great vengeance demon. Such unhappiness, such anger, and she tossed it all away on you guys! What a waste!  Do you know what it’s like, hanging around, waiting to see if you guys are going to do anything to one another? And then....no follow through. Or you go after some poor demon----“ He glanced mournfully at Hallie, who tried to look pitiful, but spoiled it by glancing up demurely to see if people were looking at her.”----who was just minding their own business. Really, it’s....” He shook his head, not so much disgusted as just disappointed. “It’s very disturbing.”

    “Well, we’re human.” Buffy said stiffly. “We do things like that.”

    “Buffy....” Xander said slowly. He looked at her, then at Spike, who leaned against the wall behind her. Despite the relaxed pose, the vampire was anything but calm and Xander could practically see the air vibrating between them.  Spike stared at her whenever she wasn’t looking at him. But she was looking at him---when he wasn’t looking at her. Nothing unusual there, was there? Xander thought, but in fact, it was slowly dawning on him that there was something unusual about it. Buffy had never used to look at Spike, at least during the whole tense period after the Revelation of his crush on her. But that was last year, he thought queasily.  She’d gone off to his crypt after the whole Buffybot thing, all set on staking him, came home in a tight-lipped snit, and then had stalked back with bandages. No explanation for that turnaround. She’d never told anybody exactly what had happened. But after that, for the longest time, till she died, he thought, she hadn’t looked at Spike directly, but sideways, or out of the corner of her eye. Business as usual, he thought, but no, it wasn’t. What made it notable was that he’d noticed it, somehow, noticed that it was odd for them to be avoiding each other’s eyes all of a sudden. When did that happen?

    Come to think of it....he thought. He tried to remember what it had been like after she came back, right after she came back. She’d been so distant, so dazed. It was like she’d been in a dark place forever and the sudden bright light hurt her eyes. Where had Spike been during all this?

    Think, brain, think.

    The very first night, they’d come from her grave to find Spike sitting across from her in the living room, holding her hands like they would break. And then, afterward, they had found him outside, the same as always, under the tree, but crying. He’d never been able to put into words the feeling of disgust and pity that had swamped over him at the time. A vampire, crying, for the Slayer.  Too complicated for me. Definitely do not want to feel sorry for William the Bloody.

   Of course, that was bad news. It meant Spike was obsessed again. Good old Spike, who you could tolerate, sort of,  like the one person in school who was more unpopular than you were, and who was so damned grateful if anybody treated them nice at all. He liked that type of gratitude, didn’t want to see it end.  Sort of like the way he himself had treated Jonathon. But the problem with Good Old Spike became apparent when Buffy came back, and she was so weak and quiet....and in Spike’s company. .And why would anybody find the company of a vampire so attractive? Wasn’t he a reminder of where she’d been? Who would want to remember hell? If she’d been in darkness, why would she associate with a creature of it?

    The dancing demon, he thought. Of course, omit entirely, the whole cause of the dancing demon, and what you were left with was that peculiar feeling of something going on just out of sight, just out of hearing.  That was it. The way she’d spoken to Spike in the Magic Box.... “You said you didn’t want to see me....”

    He could feel the blood draining out of his body. Seeing her. Oh, God. Think, think. Why did that make his stomach shrivel up into a raisin? What am I even thinking about? Buffy would never.... An image came to his brain, and he furiously shoved it away, of a sheet-clad Spike, and a tomb that looked like a tornado had hit it. Nope, not gonna go there.  I’m seeing things; that’s it. Hell, I’m even hearing things. What did Buffy just say?

   “You...ah....You said three guys. Three.” He held up three fingers and laughed nervously.  “I mean, we all know that Parker had a dual personality, but you’re counting both of them now? Did you give the other one a name.....?”

   Buffy turned a bright red and stared at the coffee table for courage.  Oh, God, here it comes. I am so not ready for this. Yes, I am. No, I’m not. Oh, boy. Oh, God. No, I can do this. I can do this.  I’ve died twice, what could be worse? Being friendless, that’s what. Even great sex all the... She glanced up at Spike for a moment, not even aware she was seeking his encouragement, which he gave her with a tight nod. I can do this. I can do this.  Xander saw that and blanched white, that fast bright look flashing between them, making him wonder what he’d been missing. After a long pause, Buffy turned her eyes from Spike to Xander, looking at him for a long, steady moment before replying. You stayed with me this long, she thought. Don’t stop being my friend now.  “Angel, Parker, Riley.” She said quietly. “People...men...who tried to be good. Well, except for Parker. He was a jerk.  But they weren’t good for me. Or maybe I wasn’t good for them.”

   “You said.” There was a shrill note in his voice now. “Three good guys and one...”

   “I should have said something earlier.”

   “Said something? About what?! About what?”

   Buffy took a deep breath. “About Spike.  About Spike...and me.”

   Xander blinked several times, turned even paler, and fainted.




*~*~*~*~*~*



    “Did I hit my head on something?”

    “No, sweetie, I was right here and I caught you.”

    “What happened?”

    “You fainted.”

    “I did not.”

    “Yes, you did, honey, you turned white, and your eyes rolled up, and then you went...”

    “Oh, God, it must have been a hallucination.”

    “About what?”

    “I dreamed Buffy said...”

    “Oh, that wasn’t a dream.” Anya said. “Buffy’s boinking Spike.”

    “Oh, God, somebody please hit me over the head.”

     He was still extremely light-headed, lying flat on his back with an afghan tossed over him, and he seemed to feel extraordinarily cold.

   “Anya.” Buffy said firmly.

   “Oh, yes, I’m sorry.” Anya said agreeably. “Buffy and I already discussed this but I forgot. I’m not supposed to use the word boink about her and Spike.”

   “Oh,God. Oh, God. Can I trade this for syphilis? Syphilis is so much less painful.”

    “And it’s curable.” Anya pointed out. “Penicillin and all that. It didn’t use to be. It used to be one of my best attention-getters.”

   “An...you and Buffy talked?About this? You talked already? Her and...?”

   “Oh, yes.”

   “And you didn’t tell me?”

   “Well, Buffy asked me not to, which I understand now, because you’re not reacting well. Neither is Angel, either. Maybe men shouldn’t be allowed to discuss this type of thing.”

   “Angel’s a vampire.”

   “Well, not really...”

   “Hey...”Angel snapped.

   “Buffy?”

   “Yes?”

   “You told Anya, but you wouldn’t tell me?”

   She hesitated such a long time that he had time to wonder about her state of mind. “I was afraid you’d react the way you ....are.”

   “Well, of course I....” Xander glanced unwillingly at Angel. “You think I’d be glad about it? He’s a vampire.”

 “People change,” she said quietly. “Spike changed. So did I.”

  “You haven’t changed.” He said weakly. “You’re human. He hasn’t changed. He’s a vampire.”

    “He’s changed.”

    “Yeah, because of the chip.”

    “The chip didn’t make him watch Dawn all summer when I was gone.”

    “The chip didn’t make him try and get in your....Sorry.”

    “The chip isn’t the problem, is it Xander?” She threw up her hands in exasperation, and noticed Angel flinch back slightly out of the corner of her eye. “You know, it just seems kind of unfair that everybody wants to interfere in my life, but nobody wants to interfere in, like, a helpful way. You want to interfere? Interfere with my job or my bills.  Nobody does that.”

   “I need to sit down,” he said breathlessly.

   “You are sitting down.” Anya pointed out. “Well, sort of.”  

   “Then I need to lie down.”

   “You are lying down. Look at the bright side; at least she’s a Slayer; I bet she wins all the arguments.” She didn’t notice Buffy’s flinch at that.

    “You and Spike...”

    Buffy took a deep breath. “Me and Spike.” She checked the others’ reactions. Lorne was beaming at her, Hallie looked a little miffed that everyone was now staring at Buffy, and Wes had removed his glasses and was polishing  them with his shirt tail. That must be the first thing they teach them in Watcher School, Buffy thought. D’Hoffryn stared down at the Monopoly board with great glumness, and Anya patted Xander. She looked pointedly at Anya, but when she repeated her earlier statement, her voice was gentle. “People do change.”

    “People change,” Xander said in a thin voice, “but Spike’s not a people.”

    “Hey.” Spike snapped. “Try and at least be interesting about it.” But his heart wasn’t in it. The good guys all turned evil and the evil one turned good, he thought.  “You’re one to talk, Harris, dating the ex-demon and all.”

   “The key word there is ex.” Xander pointed out.

   “Yeah, well, there’s this chip..”

  “What happens when the chip fails then?”

  “What happens when it doesn’t?” Spike said disgustedly. “Oh, that’s right, that bloody doesn’t matter, because whether it’s the chip or it’s me or it’s just the fact you’re too far below my standards to eat,  you’re going to treat me the same no matter what. And demon girl was a demon a lot longer than I’ve been a vampire. Where’s her chip?”

    Xander stared at him, words coming to his lips automatically. “That’s...different.”

    “Yeah, it’s different.” Spike snapped, and Xander struggled to sit up. “It’s different because it’s you and your girlfriend.” Then Buffy stepped forward and gave them both a look, laying a hand on Spike’s chest that seemed to stay there far too long.  

    “God, do we need to have a study hall or something so you guys remember what I said? And I’m feeding you, too. Those were supposed to last all week.”  Buffy gestured at all the snacks covering the table. “And you know what? You guys are cleaning all this up. And you’re doing the dishes, too.” She crossed her arms and tried to look firm. A little yelling was something she could handle; she was surprised it wasn’t worse than that.

    “Well, I don’t have a chip because I’m not a demon any longer,” Anya pointed out helpfully. “Although I supposed those soldiers would have given me one if they’d have caught me.”

    “That’s different, sweetie.”

   “Well, no,” She sighed. “There used to be fairy tales about me. Of course, now there’s fairy tales about those soldiers. If you’re a demon, that is.” She looked around. “I liked it better the other way around, when I scared people, although now I scare shoplifters, so it’s not totally different. What?” She looked at Xander. “That’s something at least.”

    Spike stared at her, then at Xander. “Explain something to me, Harris, if you don’t mind.”

    “I don’t have to explain anything to you.”

    “Well, maybe someone can.”

    Buffy turned and looked at him. Angel had slumped into a chair and was staring at the floor in the exact same pose as D’Hoffryn, both with one palm supporting their chin, raising only their eyes to whoever was speaking. “What?” Buffy mouthed at him.

   “Well, demon girl was a demon how many years? How many centuries?”

   Anya beamed at him. If she had a photo album,  Buffy thought, she’d be whipping it out right about now. This is how I spent my last eleven hundred summers, torturing men.   “It was about eleven centuries,” Anya said brightly. “But you have to take into account leap years.”

    “So if you put me and Sunshine here together, we haven’t been around even half as long as you were, right?”

   “Nope, you two are novices.” Anya said happily. Somebody who spoke her language! Even though Xander was white a sheet, he was getting that tight-around-the-lips look he got when she brought up her demon past. “Really, there’s a big stylistic difference in killing as opposed to, oh, I don’t know, maiming, wounding, slow lingering deaths. It’s sort of like comparing fast food to a gourmet meal. I mean, no offense, but you two really do it the quick and easy way. I bet you guys use microwave blood, too.” At this, both Angel and Spike hung their heads a moment in embarrassment. “ It’s just that fast food mentality, it’s done away with the artistry of killing.  I bet you’ve never done research at all.” She rolled her eyes. “I could certainly show you a thing or...” Xander cleared his throat, and put his hand on her arm, but Anya shook her head impatiently. “Now, Xander, I was a demon for a long time, you can’t expect me to pretend it didn’t happen. I mean, I need something to talk about in my old age.”

    “No, of course not, why explain anything to me?” Spike answered for him, completely ignoring Anya. “But what I bloody want to know is this. How come Soul Boy here and Demon Girl get a free pass without so much as liftin’ a bleedin’ finger----him and that curse, and her with whatever it was, I never did get the memo.  I don’t even know what you bloody people want, actually. But nothin’ I do gets me any recognition at all, nothing whatsoever.  Explain that to me. Think I wanted this bloody chip? Think I wanted my life, er, unlife, turned upside down? But I make the best of it, I try to change with the times, and none of you so much as bloody notice. Why? ”

    “Oh, that’s easy.” Xander said. “That’s ever so easy. Because you’re evil.  You might have a chip, but you’re still evil and the minute that chip comes out you’ll go after all of us, like you’ve done before.”

    “What makes you think if I wanted to, I wouldn’t have found a way to before now, you git?”

    “You never found a way to, before.” Xander blurted out, then looked confused. “Okay, that was supposed to sound way more critical.”

    “Uh, excuse me?” Buffy raised a hand. “Can somebody correct me if I’m wrong a minute here?”

   Everyone looked expectantly at her. “Well, number one, there’s me, a Slayer, dating a vampire. Who loves me. Who stayed with me, even when I was dead. Who didn’t leave.” She added pointedly, but her back was to Angel, so she couldn’t see him stiffen. “Then there’s, uh, Xander, who is dating an ex demon, who was a demon a lot longer than Spike was a vampire. And of course, there’s Angel.”

    “What about Angel?” Xander asked curiously. “Seems like he’s the most, well, normal one of all.”  He tossed a pointed glance in Spike’s direction. “Doesn’t kill people, has a kid...”

    “Call the hairdresser,” Spike muttered.

     There is a God, because my sex life is no longer the topic of discussion, Buffy thought.

Angel’s is.

     “Uh, what?”  In his chair, Angel’s eyes widened suddenly as everyone swiveled around to look at him.

    “Oh, I forgot Willow.” Buffy said, reprieving him briefly. “She dated a werewolf. But anyway, go ahead, Angel.”

    Even Xander perked up a bit at the prospect of some Angel gossip, even though he knew, guiltily, that he wasn’t supposed to dislike Angel anymore. However, Buffy had been very unhappy with the way he’d taken off like that, so he felt entitled to some situational dislike. Especially seeing as how this conversation didn’t seem to be going anywhere good at all.

    “Well.” Angel looked at the coffee table, too. “Darla...”

    “Excuse me, who’s Darla?” Xander asked.

    “Blonde vampire from a couple of years ago,” Buffy muttered, as if whispering in class.

   “Uh, Buff, lots of blond vampires. Darla?”

   “Jesse.” Buffy said softly. “She turned Jesse.” She’d saved a lot of lives, but it was the ones she’d lost that she remembered.

     “Jesse.” Xander said quietly. He was seventeen again, and dealing with the reality that there could in fact be monsters in his closet, when he had only just gotten over convincing himself that there weren’t. Ah, yes, Sunnydale, where all the fairytales are by the brothers very very Grimm.  Now I’m going to have to think about all the other people who vampires got before Buffy came here. “But Angel staked her, so why are we talking about her? Setting up a dental college fund or something in her memory or what?”

  “Or what,” Buffy said dryly. “ She was, ah, I guess, she ah, made Angel a vampire, and she was, oh, about four hundred years old. She tried to kill me, too, with guns, well, at least once, and then Angel staked her.”

   “But----“and here Xander swallowed and tried to find his funny voice, “she bit the dust, right? Another one bit the du---oh, never mind.”

  “Wolfram and Hart brought her back.” Angel said. His voice had the monotonous tone of a man who was reciting something he could barely think about, much less speak of. “As a human.”

    “Oh.” Why Darla and why not Jesse, huh?Or Jenny? Why not Jenny? Why don’t they ever bring back people like Jenny? What if Spike...?  He glanced nervously at Spike, who of course noticed it instantly.

   “Stop it, Harris, or I’ll go all shy.”

   “Would you?” Xander retorted. “Would you leave then?”

   Buffy gave Xander Joyce’s Mom Eye Roll, then Spike. “I’m starting to think Anya is right. Maybe we just shouldn’t allow you guys to discuss this type of thing. Well, at least not until after Angel’s done. Go on.”

   “Well...” Angel shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Too many faces were looking at him. “And...” He shifted again. “I can’t explain it.”

   I don’t even care if you can explain it, Buffy thought. But I tried and you have to try, too, dammit. In front of people.

   “Darla was human.” Angel said quietly. “For a while. Wolfram and Hart wanted to use her against me.”

    “Uh..who are they?” Xander asked.

   “Huge law firm in LA.” Wes said. “They’re quite evil.” He glanced down. “They had some doings with Faith, when she was in LA.”

   “Did she kill one of them?” Buffy asked, then shrugged before he could answer. ”Don’t know who to root for, there.”

   “Uh...” Wes blinked at her for a moment. “Sorry, I simply don’t know.”

   “ ‘s okay. Go on, Angel.” Buffy nodded at Angel.

   “Well...”

   “Wait...” Xander said. “You mean, she didn’t get, like, you know,  offed right away?”
  “No,” Angel said uncomfortably.

  “No?” Xander repeated. “No? No? Why not?” He took a deep breath to settle himself and found that it didn’t work at all.  He glanced up at Buffy, not sure how much he could say about Angel in front of her. Then he turned, shaking his head at Angel and himself, both.  Did you and Darla have a lot of catching up to do? Wanted to reminisce about old times? Different methods of trying to kill Buffy?  How to really drive her nuts?

    “It’s complicated,” Angel said. “It’s really complicated.”

    “We’re all complicated!” Xander exclaimed in frustration. “But....” He ran into that brick wall again. Oh, God, he thought. Oh, God. She was your sire or whatever it is or whoever it is that makes you a vampire, and you...? You definitely didn’t kill her. Did she know you went all Angelus on us for a while there? How could you not..?

   “She was human,” Angel said helplessly.

   “Well, so, she gets a Get Out of Hell card automatically? She killed my best friend! She turned him into....”  He glanced at Spike.

   “Hey.” Spike snapped. “That is different, I’ll have you know.”

   “How?”

   “Angelus was the one always turnin’ things right and left.” Spike said. “Me, I just wanted...lunch.”

    Silence thumped down on the room.

    A car glided by outside, and from somewhere else they heard another car horn honk.

    “So......what happened, Angel?” Xander prodded.

    “Well...” Angel sighed. He looked around the room. D’Hoffryn was looking up, only his eyes following the conversation, while Wes and Hallie politely waited for him to start speaking again. Lorne was idly buffing his nails on his blazer, then blowing on them. Spike, lounging against the wall by the stairs, was out of his vision, but he could practically feel the other vampire’s eyes boring twin  holes into him. He took a deep breath to stall and found that he still couldn’t force a single word out of his mouth.

   “C’mon, Angel,” Buffy urged quietly. “Confession’s good for the....Oh. Sorry. I never thought about that.”

      He actually opened his mouth, looked around, and still nothing came out. It was just too much; he didn’t even understand what had happened  himself, and he was supposed to explain it to people who didn’t even like him?

    “Oh, God, how about if I try?” Buffy said.  

   “Try what?” Xander asked.

   “No,” Angel said. “No.”

   He stared at his hands. There must be some way I can do this, he thought  If I had a year....

    “Angel...” Buffy urged.

   “Buffy...”

   She looked down into his eyes, and he tried to compose himself. The same eyes, she thought. Those same eyes. How can people change so much on the inside and still look the same on the outside? “Let me try.”   

   “Let me try,” she repeated.

   “Try what?” Xander asked.

   “Let me see if I can tell this story, because Angel can’t.” Or won’t. She stepped forward, took a deep breath, and cleared her throat. “I was fighting evil all last year and it got really difficult, and I was really lonely.” She looked at Angel, who stared at her fiercely for a moment before dropping his eyes. “But then these lawyers brought back Darla, and made her human. So even though I knew she was evil, and had been evil for four hundred years, we, you know, and somehow she got pregnant! Now I have a kid. And the mother used to be a vampire or, actually is a vampire, or was a vampire, till she dusted herself, and even though she was a vampire,  I’m going to forget about that around  people who have relationships with vampires who are a whole lot less evil. Than her. Did I miss something? Oh, yeah, throw in something about vengeance demons and we’ve got everybody covered. Because I think just about everybody in this room has had sex with a vampire now.” She sat down with a plop in the last chair. “Did I miss anything? Anything at all?”

    “A vampire got pregnant?” Xander said. “And the dad was....?”

    “I wonder if this is a trend.” Anya wondered. “I could stock magical birth control.”

   “Angel.” Buffy directed her remark at Xander. “It was Angel.”

   “So Connor’s really yours?” Xander suddenly went white again. “Is he a vampire?”

   “No, he’s human.”

   “Does he look like you?”

   “Oh, yes.” This time it was Wes who spoke. “I don’t believe you saw the pictures.” He dug out his wallet, and flipped it open to the pictures. “There’s a distinct resemblance there. Look, there’s Lorne, making faces.”

   “Yeah, well, his lungs put mine to shame, let me tell you.” Lorne said sourly. “The kid’s going to sing at the Met.”

   “He’s, ah, cute.” Xander said. “So, ah, could I just mention, again, that my family now looks normal, and I’m not sure I like that at all? I mean, considering it takes two vampires...well, I’m just not comfortable any more.”

   “Oh, Xander, wait till you see my relatives.” Anya said. “Then you can start worrying.”

   Xander blinked up at her. “Nice to know my family’s place at the top of the podium won’t be vacant long.”

   “Well, good,” Buffy said. “Then everybody can keep busy and leave me alone.”

   “Buffy...”Xander said.

   “What?”

   “Do you really want me to...leave you alone?”

   “Did I ever bug you about Anya? Huh? Did I?”

   “No, not really.”

   “What do you mean, not really?”

    Wes looked from Buffy to Xander, then down at his watch. He caught Lorne’s eye, nodding at the debris on the table. Lorne stared back blankly until Wes tapped at his watch, then quietly shifted to his feet and picked up a couple of the dishes scattered around the Monopoly game and carried them to the kitchen. D’Hoffryn, only his eyes moving, hunched down further on the couch and watched them leave. Hallie blinked as Wes got up and left, and quietly got to her feet and followed after them. At the door she turned and gestured at Anya. Come tell me about your dress, she mouthed, but Anya gestured at Xander, propped weakly on couch pillows on the floor. Halllie stepped forward, nodding at both Xander and Buffy before grabbing Anya’s hand. Reluctantly, she rose to her feet before she could be hoisted up. After a moment’s thought, she held out a hand to D’Hoffryn who she yanked up and dragged after her, like a boat towing a reluctant dinghy.

    Angel, Spike, Buffy and Xander remained. Spike and Angel stared at each other, till Spike sniffed. “I’m not leaving. That’s your job.”

    “No, your job is to disappoint everybody and then never finish anything.”

    “At least I’m persistent. You never hang around long to disappoint anybody.”

   Buffy and Xander both looked up and after a moment’s glaring, both vampires thought better of fighting in front of witnesses. They left, one heading for the kitchen, the other for the street.

    “So..” Xander said.

    “So...” Buffy repeated.

   “We have to talk, right?”

    “I think we already talked, didn’t we? Do we need to go all over it again?” She looked into his eyes. “You know, my dad took off and Angel took off, but you’re still here. I want you to always be here, okay?  But I want Spike, too. Maybe he’ll take off, too, but I don’t know. I can’t tell anymore. I just want...you not to.”

   “But it’s Spike, Buffy...”

   “You were right, Xander. People don’t change. But...he did.” She struggled with words, her throat closing. “He changed for me, Xander. And for Dawn. The whole time I was gone.... He deserves credit for that.”

   “Seems like he’s already getting it.” Xander muttered, but Buffy raised both eyebrows at him, and he looked abashed for a moment.

  “Did Anya ever say she was sorry?”

  “What?”

   “Did Anya ever say she was sorry?”

   He shook his head at her, bewildered by the question. “For what?”

   Buffy stared at him for a moment. For eleven centuries. “It just seems like you...hold Spike’s past against him---which you should----but not Anya’s.”

  “That’s different.”

“Why?”

“She’s human.”

“Why is that? Was she like the Little Mermaid? Did she change because of you? You were just as pissed at Angel a minute ago, over Darla.”

“Well...” She watched his face as he thought it over,  his eyes clouding over, a frown gradually accumulating on his face. “You know....you’re just confusing me now.”

She got to her feet, dusting herself off. “Xander, you have to think about it, okay? And I mean, really think about it. I just...I expect better from you, okay?”

For a moment, he looked so young that she couldn’t help but remember how long it had been, how much they had gone through together. “Buffy...”

“No buts, okay. If you disapprove of Angel, of me, then you have to disapprove of yourself, too.”

His jaw dropped. She watched him for a moment, to see if he was going to keel over again, but he didn’t. She got up and left him to find Spike.

 








Chapter 45





Pounding. Bangbangbangbangbang.

Noise.

"Huh...what? What the hell?"

Willow sat up abruptly, wondering how she had gotten from Africa to her own bedroom. Oh. Dream. Damn. It's always the good ones that get interrupted. Nobody ever interrupted that dream about her failing test scores being posted on the front page after she'd been arrested for public nudity. She shook her head to clear it and looked around. Tara's apartment. Good---familiar. Tara. She glanced down at her fondly, but she was still asleep for the moment. Then the pounding started again, and she thought: Uh. Oh. Unfamiliar.

She slipped carefully from under the covers, grabbing a throw from the foot of the bed and wrapping it around her shoulders as she tiptoed from the room. The heat of the dream's setting had departed, leaving her feeling chilled.

She paused in the living room door to get her bearings, shaking her head to clear the dregs of sleep from it. There was no noise from the other bedroom, which meant that either the girls were sleeping through it, or they'd absconded through the window.

"Willow!"

Xander? She hurried to the door, bracing herself against whatever it was now. Why couldn't emergencies happen during the day when she was rested, and awake? It was bad enough getting woken up, but then you had to deal with getting acclimated to the shock of whatever was going on. That never got easy. She sighed and unlocked the door. At least I have my fuzzy blanket, she thought. Grasping at straws always helps.

She opened the door to find Xander knocking on it so ferociously that he didn't stop until a couple knocks had almost hit her. She frowned at him, scanning him for wounds, extra body parts, or sudden excess body hair. She relaxed slightly as she realized that he was upset, not in an Apocalypse kind of way, but in a Xander kind of way. Nothing looked different, but he was wild-eyed. "Xander?" she asked mildly. "What's wrong?"

"Sit down, Will, I have bad news."

"What? Tell me! What's wrong?"

"It's Buffy. She--" He gulped and looked around. "Is Dawn in bed?" He asked softly. "I don't think she should hear this."

"What?!" Willow grabbed his arm and yanked him inside. "Is she okay?"

"Oh, she's okay," he muttered, striding across the room with his hands in his hair. "She's just fine, physcially, but mentally, she's all----"

"Is it a spell or something?"

"It must be." He'd been dreading this moment for quite some time, he realized. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd dreaded it ever since he'd found Spike weeping outside of Buffy's house after she came back. "She's sleeping with Spike."

Willow blinked at him and waited.

"See? I know! I was in shock, too, it's disgusting, it's---"

"It's---Is that it?"

"What do you, mean, Will, is that it? She's sleeping with Spike, he's Spike, he's---"

"Uh....Xander...."

He flopped down in a chair, running his hands through his hair repeatedly and rocking back and forth. Willow looked down on him for a moment, then sighed, and sat down next to him. "Xander?"

"Yeah?"

"I knew that."

"You...? You...!"

"Buffy told me during the slumber party. It was kind of obvious."

He was struck dumb, staring at her with something like betrayal in his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She sighed and looked into space. "For the same reason I didn't tell you about Tara at first. I had to figure it out myself first. Then I told you."

"This is different."

"Do you think it's okay, me and Tara?"

"Well, yeah, it's...it's....What do you mean?"

"What if you didn't?"

"What if I didn't? Will, you've never dated anybody stupid. I mean, you've never done anything stupid like that."

"But what if I did?"

"Huh? I don't....I don't get it."

"If I was dating somebody you didn't like, what would you do?"

"Well..." he shrugged. She leaned against him, sighing deeply. "I don't know. Why would I disapprove?"

"Well, somebody you just didn't like. You know, that fat guy you work with who smells? What if I decided to date him and you didn't like it?"

"Oh, hey, hey...I see what you're doing." He jumped to his feet, leaving her lurching sideways on the couch. "This is different! Spike is evil, Spike is---is----" He sputtered helplessly, looking for a word. "He's...He's...Spike! It's disgusting! He's tried to kill us a lot of times."

"Well, we get that a lot," Willow said. "But, Xander...You know, you're dating a demon. A lot of people wouldn't understand that."

"Did you guys compare notes or something? Ex-demon, ex-demon! She doesn't do that stuff anymore!"

"Sure, Xander. Like she doesn't miss it or anything."

"Will? Did Buffy just call or something? Do you get your game plan together?"

She rolled her eyes, but her voice was mild. "Why?"

"Buffy was----" He stopped pacing and stared at her. "She said some of the same stuff. She said Anya was a demon for centuries..."

Willow, startled, considered it. How on earth had she overlooked this particular little weapon in the arsenal of Anya-dislike? "Well, yeah, Xander, it's not as if Anya---" She stiffened at his bewildered anger, and subsided back. This is me, she thought. This is how I reacted to Anya and Xander. "Xander, are you jealous?"

"Jealous?!" He made a snorting noise. Then he stopped pacing and looked into her eyes. "Do you think I'm jealous? I'm worried about her. He could hurt her."

Willow looked at him carefully, considering. She wondered just how much honesty he could take. "You know, Xander, we were the ones who pulled her out of heaven."

"Yeah, so?"

"I think he loves her, Xander. I really do. He looks at her the way Tara looks at me. Maybe Buffy finally noticed." She waited a second, but his shocked expression didn't abate, although his jaw slowly fell open. "There's lots of people who think that Tara and I are wrong, who would think that you and Anya are wrong. But..I think love makes you feel alive. Buffy needs that now, more than ever."

"That...that..." He shook his head at her, no longer angry, but sad. He looked at her as if he'd never seen her before. "That's..."

"Are you happy, Xander?"

"Me?" He looked at her cautiously. "Why?"

"It's just a question, Xander. Are you happy?"

"Yeah." He shrugged. "Yeah, I'm happy."

"Well, don't you want Buffy to be happy?"

"Not with Spike! She can't be happy with Spike!"

"I think she is, Xander. And I want her to be happy. I screwed that up, and we screwed up. But he didn't, not that at least. He loves her. I mean, Xander, remember how he helped us while she was dead? He was there the whole time, even when he thought she was dead. He remembered her, Xander. He loves her, the way Anya loves you." A memory came to her, then; Spike in the Bronze, muttering something about Buffy being more likely to hurt him than vice versa. "I just don't think you throw love away like that."

Xander stared down at her, eyeing her rather dreamy expression with suspicion. "It's that whole bad boy thing, isn't it? The leather coat, the accent, the---the----You're gay! You're supposed to be cynical about men."

Willow stared at him, then got to her feet. "I didn't choose to be this way, Xander, I just am. Like you and Anya. Maybe you can sort of not fall in love, but sometimes it surprises you. I'm just not going to...to...whatever because you don't like Spike. You didn't stop dating Anya because we, sort of, had some tension, you know."

"Tension?"

"You know she and I don't get along all the time."

"I---I----"

"It's gotta be the same for everybody, Xander. If Buffy can't date Spike, then I can't date Tara, and you can't date Anya. How would you feel?"

He sighed and looked at his feet, and she stood up, pulling her fuzzy blanket around her like armor. "That wasn't a rhetorical question, Xander. How would you feel if you couldn't date Anya?"

He finally looked up at her. "Answer me," she ordered.

"I can't imagine."

"Well, what if the Initiative were still around, Xander? What do you think they'd do to her?"

He gasped at that, freezing as he actually considered it. Anya in the hands of people who would cage her like an animal? She wasn't human enough yet to understand why, and she'd be confused and very likely terrified. She'd miss him terribly....Unwillingly, he remembered that summer. It was more than unwilling, it was almost as if the summer was forcing its way into his brain, demanding that he look at the memory. It was Spike, turning away from him every time he brought up Buffy's name, flinching away even from looking at pictures of her. He'd caught the vampire staring off into the distance from the back porch more than once, just staring off as if there were vast spaces in front of him instead of the Summers' small back yard. He'd get that look on his face, that thousand-mile stare he had when he was thinking about Buffy, and you'd actually have to touch him to get him to notice you.

He avoided Willow's eyes. "Look, Xander, I'm not asking that you two start skipping hand in hand through fields of wildflowers, but is it too much for you to just leave them alone? As long as you're dating Anya, at least. As long as I'm dating Tara."

"If he hurts her.."

She looked at him sadly, and that was his last excuse. "I'm going home," he muttered. "You can form the Spike fan club on your own."

Willow went to the door and held it open. "Get some sleep, Xander. And think it over. Maybe think about how come you didn't let Anya tell us you were engaged, too."

She closed the door on his freshly-dropped jaw, pulled her blanket about her tighter, and wondered if she could somehow find her way back into that puzzling, intriguing dream. In the hallway, Xander squared his shoulders and walked slowly away, but as he got closer to the car, his step picked up. Anya. Home. Bed. No frogs. No vampires. Sleep, he thought.

Dawn rolled over on her back and caught Janice's eye. Janice was frowning in puzzlement. "What was that about?"

"It was about me getting a paper route," she said with great satisfaction, before drifting off to sleep with dreams of actually buying cds dancing through her head. The thought surfaced briefly just before she slept, and Spike will have to be there all the time, too.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~




It was a somewhat subdued group that Buffy bid adieu to at the front door. Angel had been waiting out in front ever since she'd had her talk with Xander, and she never actually got to say good bye to him. Fine. Be that way, she thought. You might have forever to carry a grudge, but I don't. Anya was still perky despite the fact that Hallie appeared to have abandoned her once again for Wes' company, once the need to get Anya out of the room had passed. Wes looked both perturbed and intrigued at that, and she found herself wondering what exactly had happened to the twitchy little Englishman she remembered. How come Angel had a good effect on him? The rest was a blur, and she was left closing the door on them with such relief that she felt almost but not quite guilty over. She actually leaned against the door for a moment, pressing her face to the wood. Then she turned and leaned her back against it, reaching out with one hand to jiggle the knob to make sure it was locked.

Angel stared for a long moment at the doorknob from the yard, then turned to look back at the group silently regarding him. Lorne waited a second, and then jammed his hands into his pockets with a sigh. When Angel didn't move, Lorne stepped forward and held out a hand. "C'mon Kemosabe. I think we need to get drunk." This was greeted with silence. "Okay, we need to get Wesley drunk and watch him try to sing."

"I heard that." Wes muttered.

"See? Wes is willing to take one for the team." So what are you willing to do, you big sour puss? He thought. He looked at Angel thoughtfully, wondering if Angel was capable of putting aside his problems just once, so the rest of them could have some fun.

"C'mon, big guy, let's go get wasted." Lorne glanced around the group for support. "We'll drink, we'll exchange confidences, we'll talk about women." He glanced somewhat nervously at D'Hoffryn. "Or...demons." Or whatever, he noted to himself. Sheep? Gives a whole new meaning to the phrase 'dinner and a movie.' "Say..." he eyed D'Hoffryn. "Not telepathic, are you? Good.....So.... We'll get drunk, we'll get tattoos, we'll listen to country music. Maybe some of us will wind up sleeping with inappropriate people. C'mon, all we need to have fun is you."

Angel looked down, considering. Suddenly, he was just terribly worn out. Nothing had turned out the way he had planned, the way he'd hoped, and all he wanted was sleep. No thinking, no drinking, no friends. He shrugged at them all, and they began to drift toward the car. With their backs to him, none of them saw the way he paused under the tree, looking at the door, looking at the porch. How had everything changed, that he was the one standing outside the house, while Spike was inside?

Buffy braced herself against the door, flinching slightly at the sound of the car doors slamming outside. There they go, she thought. She ached all over with weariness and tension, and though a lot of it was leaving with them, some of it simply felt...unfinished. Is it bad that I want something....else? What that might be, she wasn't sure, but it nagged at her. Shouldn't be, she thought, but still....the argument felt unfinished. They think they're going to ignore this till it goes away, she thought grimly. It's not going to go away. She lifted her eyes to Spike's, and looked at him as he shuffled slowly from the living room. As she watched, he ran his hands through his already-rumpled hair, and cautiously looked up at her. He looked so much like a guilty schoolboy that she had to smile involuntarily, and his shoulders slumped suddenly.

Spike gave a sigh and sank down onto the steps in front of her, stretching his arms out as they were stiff from being crossed sullenly in front of him for the whole evening. He gave her a rueful look composed of two parts irony and one part exhaustion that had once been exasperation. As she continued to stare, the irony melted away until she was looking at the genuine thing, the unadorned character. It was at moments like this that she saw the man he might become if he had the chance. It was also at moments like this that she wondered if that chance was...her. No pressure there. Oh, boy, she thought. What did I say tonight? What did I do? It seemed somehow appropriate that she had gone from having sex with Spike to actually admitting having sex with Spike. One more stage, though, she thought. One more thing. How many more things are there? They looked at each other, Spike slowly blinking those lashes as if he were considering something deep and serious, and she trying to fathom what that something might be. A clock ticked somewhere, but it occurred to her how seldom it was that they got uninterrupted watching time out of bed. She'd watched him in passion, in abandon, but when there were clothes between them, she'd always felt the need to glance at him only surreptitiously. Now I don't have to bother, she thought. I can look at him any time I want to. So she did, studying him with a seriousness that made him first glance down curiously, then meet her eyes uncomfortably, not certain what or why she was looking at. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing." Damn. She could feel herself flushing again. Damn that feeling, that sudden rush of blood, that abrupt leap in her pulse. She didn't stop looking at him, though. He responded to the scrutiny by ducking his head and running his hands through his hair again, leaving it in messy curls. It was such a nervous gesture, so boyish, that she had to smile, something that Spike caught instantly.

"What are you starin' at, Slayer?" But now he'd stopped being nervous, and was staring back. She stepped toward him, then, conscious of how odd it was to be glad her friends were gone and that Spike remained. She walked right between his arms and he wrapped them around her, bowing his head to her stomach. She used his hair for a pillow, smiling silently at the lack of gel. "They're gone," she muttered.

"Temporarily," he grumbled.

"They're still my friends."

"I think that says more about you than it does about your powers of persuasion, pet."

"Hey!" She pulled away and he loosened his arms, sliding his hands down the backs of her legs. Then she realized it was sort of a compliment. Oops. She was staring down into his eyes, arms loosely around his neck. "You know..."

"Hm?" He was already looking at her lips, she noticed.

Who are you? She thought. Who am I? I know who I used to be, and who you used to be and who my friends used to be, but not any more. I just chewed out my friends for you, and I think they're still my friends.

She scraped her fingers through his hair, tracing his face with her fingertips. I can do that, she thought. I can do that in front of my friends now. Probably better not actually do it, though. . And then it hit her; Oh my God, I told them about Spike. No more secrets. I did the mature thing. I don't have any secrets.

Well, maybe one.

"C'mon," she said, pulling him to his feet.

"What?"

"C'mon."

After the tension of the evening, it just seemed to her suddenly that she couldn't bear any more pretense. She knew she wasn't ever going to be Exposition Girl, but now the last couple of days just crowded up around her. Confronting what had felt like the whole world's opinion of her was so much more difficult than confronting demons and vampires. When you staked them, they stayed staked. When you confronted your friends, they argued. No, she thought. When you confront your friends, they argued, and then they...stayed your friends. "Just...c'mon." And not to mention how irritating it was when your friends acted like they could date unsuitable people, but you couldn't.

Bemused, he let himself get led upstairs, and into her room. She turned around at the threshold, her finger pressed to his lips, pulling them away playfully when he tried to kiss them. She slipped his coat slowly down his arms, looking into his eyes the whole time. When his coat fell to the floor she still had her hands around his arms, sliding them down to his hands, and twining her fingers with his. They stared at each other, oddly peaceful. "Sorry," Buffy whispered.

"What?"

"I just want to...."

"Hm?"

"Look at you." She whispered. "Just want to look at you."

A slight quirk of the lips, and his eyes changed colors, darkening as he almost but not quite smiled. That was when she kissed him, gentle and unhurried. She leaned into his body, wrapping her arms around him, feeling his arms around her. With a tug, she pulled him toward the bed, and they walked backward, still kissing. At the bed's edge, she pulled back slightly, pulling his shirt away from his jeans, leaning back when he skinned off his tee shirt. She took off her own shirt and pants, then, and found him undressed when she turned back. She paused and looked into his eyes again, not sure of what she was looking for. Maybe just him. A slight breeze brushed over them as she reached up and kissed him again, tasting his lips as delicately as if she were savoring a new wine.

With the clothes gone, his skin became the only barrier, and she found herself tracing the muscles of his arms and backs as they kissed, murmuring into his mouth. This time he was the one who pulled away. "Hm?"

"C'mere." At that, he smiled. They were naked and pressed together, and she was telling him, 'c'mere.' He sat down on the bed, and she hovered at his knees, looking down at him with sleepy eyes. For a moment he had the typical male reaction to a naked female; a fraction of a second of shock that in fact there was a naked woman at his knees, and not only that, that it was Buffy. Then she leaned forward and they eased onto the covers, bodies twining together like string.

He had no idea whatsoever was in her mind. She kissed him the way he'd always wanted her to, slow and deep and supple, fingertips on his face, breathing, 'oh, oh,' into his mouth. Her warmth seeped into his skin, his bones, his fibers, and there seemed to be no separation between the two of them, not skin, not personality, not blood. She eased away slightly to look into his face. "What?" he muttered.

"What?" she repeated, amused. "A little tense?"

"What yourself. Want to see my ID or something?"

She cocked her head at him, then slowly glanced down his body, taking her time before her gaze reached his feet and she came back to his face. "What I really want to see is where you'd keep it."

He crossed his arms behind his head. "You're awfully feisty tonight."

She smacked his chest again, then looked at him consideringly and tried to tickle him. Spike just smiled patiently and batted away her hand. "Nice try. Vampires aren't ticklish."

"Oh, they're not?" Buffy demanded skeptically. She traced one fingertip down his neck to his nipple, circling it while keeping a thoughtful look on her face. Spike held his breath as she continued, shuddering suddenly till she triumphantly flattened her hand against his chest. "What was that, then?"

"That's different."

"Well, thank you, Doctor..." She cleared her throat. "Well, thank you, Doctor Spike.Doctor..Spike, get it? Doctor Spike?"

Spike groaned and let his head drop to the pillow. Buffy shook her head at him, and muttered, "Well, it's not like you're the one contributing witticisms to the conversation."

Conversation? He thought suddenly. He lifted his head to look at her. "Sorry. I've been remiss. Please go on and speculate as to where, precisely, I keep my green card."

"You know, I just don't think that's on my list of worries right now."

"You sure?"

She shook her head at him. "You're the one that's awfully frisky tonight." They looked at each other, then, and Spike reached out one finger and touched her cheek. He could feel the blush before he saw it, and he wondered if she was aware of it, that blush that was the sign of all those bottled emotions, struggling in her throat.

"Can't imagine why I'd feel...so..different tonight." He said quietly. "Can't imagine what it would be."

"Yeah, well," she muttered, embarrassed. "It's not like...I should have said something before. I'm not a liar or anything."

"You're not," he agreed soberly.

"It's just that I don't know what to say when I...don't know what to say." She frowned. "That sounded a lot more intelligent in my head."

"You told Angel."

Something struck her, then; the absolute certainty that he had not told Angel. The suspicion was certainly what had brought Angel to Sunnydale, but Spike was not the one who had said anything. The only thing better than killing a Slayer is f-- She looked at him with equal parts irritation and wonder. A God tortures him for an answer, and he doesn't give it, but he couldn't refrain from blurting out that comparison between offing Slayers, and, well, getting off with them. It made no sense at all. "And you didn't, did you?"

"What?" He shook his head, trying to follow her thoughts. "Oh? Oh. Oh. No, love, would you have wanted me to? Seems like it's your job to tell the ex about the...."He hesitated.

"About the new..." she hesitated. "Guy?" She paused again. "About the new....boyfriend?" She finished.

"Yes," he breathed. "Yes, that." He steadied himself. "Seems only fair."

"I guess. Which still doesn't explain why Angel never..." Buffy made a tsking noise to herself, scowling for a moment. "I will not think about that again."

"Will thinking about it make you get irritable with Angel? Because that I wouldn't object to."

"You think he's going to..." She rolled her eyes at herself. "Nope, not gonna go there. What's wrong with me?"

"Not enough shagging." Spike said seriously.

"No, it's not that," she muttered. "Just..." She traced a finger across his chest, then looked up searchingly into his face. "You know, I always worry about that...chip." Her voice dropped at the word, chip, as if it were something extremely profane. "Always." Hurt made his forehead furrow briefly before she continued. "But....I wasn't worried tonight. I was more worried about Angel."

"Think he'll come back and do your hair in your sleep or something?"

"I'm serious."

"Point taken. I, however, am naked."

"You are?!"

"Yeah, you're funny."

"Whereas you are funny-looking."

"Funny....looking, you...?"

"Me what? Go ahead, finish that sentence." She propped herself up on her elbows over his chest. He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully at her, his scrutiny not matching her mood. He cupped her face in one hand and her eyes got big and round, her lower lip sticking out. She pulled herself closer and pressed her hand over his, fitting his against her face, and laying her head on his chest. The gesture made his throat close up, and he buried his face in her hair. "So," he muttered. "Shouldn't we be planning for tomorrow, getting all ready?"

"Why?" Buffy demanded."Getting ready means making sure I'm not wearing underwear. And I know you're not."

"Which you've put to good advantage."

"Like I didn't have help..." Buffy said dryly. "So, okay, see how this sounds. This is tomorrow, right? I will fight demons, bad guys, and my friends. They will bitch and moan. Xander will sulk, probably. Tara will look all happy. Dawn will be really happy. Willow will make jokes. You and I, well, you and I, we'll, uh---"

"---Look for broom closets."

"Probably," Buffy said dryly. "Why do I think my friends will be following us around suspiciously?"

"Because they will. Especially Harris."

"But anyway, there will be fighing, probably some snarky remarks from Xander, and Angel might call. People will listen to me...or not. And you'll be here, all the time."

"All the time?"

"All the time." She raised her head and looked at him. "That's all I know for sure about tomorrow." She nudged her head under his chin again. "That's....all I need to know."



THE END




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