Enemy Incognito

By Wynn

Chapter Thirty-Three: Love and Hate

The saying goes 'There's a thin line between love and hate.' The old adage might have held true for Spike's relationship with Buffy, definitely applied to his relationship with Angel, but there was no line between love and hate for Spike and Xander. That's because there was no love. There was only hate. Spike always knew Xander hated him, at first simply for the fact that he was a vampire. As time progressed, Xander's hatred moved beyond the basic difference of species to a more personal and intense hatred cultivated through the constantly fluctuating and complex relationship Spike had with the Scoobies, particularly his relationship with Buffy.

But the look on Xander's face, the gleam in his eyes, went beyond hatred. Beyond loathing. Beyond revulsion. It was a look familiar to Spike because it was a look he had seen on his own face every time he peered into a mirror since his soul had been returned to him.

"If it's alright with you, Harris," Spike said, his blue eyes never wavering from Xander, "maybe we could do this someplace private."

"Fine by me, Spike."

Xander uncrossed his arms and pushed off the doorjamb. Spike tried to slip his hand out of Dawn's grasp. Her fierce grip tightened further, and she stepped between Spike and Xander, her mouth set in a firm line, her eyes hard and locked on Xander.

"Let him go, Dawn," Xander said.

"No."

"Dawn, Harris and I are just going to have a little chat."

"Really? And here I thought you were going to have a little staking. I wonder how I got all confused. It's certainly not because of the stake in Xander's hand." Dawn raised her chin in the air as she stared at Xander. "If you want to have a little chat, do it right here, right now."

Xander tore his gaze away from Spike and looked at Dawn, taking in the resolute tilt to her chin and stubborn glint to her eyes. Sighing, he turned back to Spike and said, "So I heard you got yourself a soul."

"I did."

"I bet you think you're a changed man now. Or maybe you think because you're an ex-soulless bastard you're not responsible for everything you did as a soulless bastard."

"You call Spike a bastard one more time, Xander," Dawn said taking a step closer to him, fire flashing in her eyes, "and I will throw you out of my house."

"You're still defending him? After what he did to your sister-"

"Oh, yes. Let's talk about that. Do you remember how I found out about that, Xander? Do you? You told me, in the middle of the street, while we were on the run from a psychotic Willow."

"You needed to know the truth, Dawn."

"But you didn't tell me because you thought I needed to know the truth. And you didn't tell me because you cared about me or Buffy or wanted to protect us. You told me because you hate Spike and you wanted me to hate him, too."

Spike laid a hand on Dawn's shoulder and gently pulled her back towards him. "Dawn…"

She looked up at him, her body trembling with anger. "No. I'm not going to let him attack you like this. You made a mistake last year. Just like everyone else made mistakes last year, including Xander." She turned away from Spike and faced Xander again. "Did you forget about all the bad stuff you've done? Have you forgotten about all the mistakes you've made? You almost got Faith killed. You left Anya at the altar, broke her heart, and left town without so much as an explanation. You brought that singing demon to town, which killed a couple people and almost got Buffy killed again."

Xander dropped his gaze to the ground. "Dawn…"

"You want to delve deeper into the past, Xander? You cheated on Cordelia with Willow. Put a love spell on the entire high school that turned all the women into rabid murderous lust puppies. Do you remember all these mistakes you made? Have you forgotten all the mistakes that people have forgiven you for, just like we've forgiven Spike and Buffy and Willow and Faith and Anya and Angel and me for all the bad things we've done in the past? Spike's changed and he's trying to do good, which is why he went and fought for his soul. So there will be no little talk with a stake. There will be no more threatening Spike or calling him a bastard because you feel like it. And if you don't like it, you can get the hell out of my house."

"Technically, it's my house," Buffy said as she stepped between Dawn and Xander, a tight smile on her face. She reached down, plucked the stake from Xander's hand, and tossed it over the porch railing. "But I agree with what Dawn said about Spike. He's changed. He's not going anywhere anytime soon, so please find a way to work with him or work around him because we do not have the time to deal with another one of these showdowns."

A minute passed. Xander glanced from Buffy to Dawn and back again, his gaze softening, the hatred replaced with a wearied resignation. Shaking his head softly, he stepped out of the doorway. "I hope you know what you're doing," he said as Buffy moved by him.

"I do." She glanced over her shoulder at Dawn, a wicked grin on her face, and said, "I have the absolute perfect embarrassing Angel moment you can use against him. Something Lorne told me, actually. Have you ever heard of the song Mandy?"

An evil smile crossed Dawn's face. She disentangled her hand from Spike's as she glanced at him. "This doesn't mean you're off the hook though. You lived with Angel for, like, forever, so I know you have some good ribbing material stored up."

Spike suppressed the smirk that threatened to form on his face. Nodding gravely, he said to Dawn, "I have one or two particularly gruesome embarrassing moments I'd be willing to share about Peaches. For the right price."

"No spicy buffalo wings or sour cream and onion chips or anything else resembling junk food on the premises. So it's gonna have to be hot cocoa with lots of gooey marshmallows."

"Perfect." He nudged Dawn into the house. "Buffy's waiting for you. Go learn about Angel's horrid singing."

Blue eyes darting between Xander and Spike, Dawn said, "You are coming in though. Right?"

"Yeah, Bit. Be inside in a sec."

"Ok. I'll be waiting for you."

Xander watched Dawn enter the house and disappear into the living room. He stepped in front of Spike and crossed his arms over his chest. "You hurt her again and I will kill you. Soul or no soul."

Spike nodded. Maneuvering around Xander, he crossed the threshold and moved into the Summers' home as he said, "Get in the line, mate. Others have made the same promise. Myself included."

* * *

The sky was clear, dotted with puffy white clouds, and brilliant with sunshine. Willow took a deep breath and knocked on the front door to the Summers' house. After the inevitable Spike and Xander confrontation, which turned out a lot better than Willow had expected due to the lack of fighting or dustage, Giles had postponed the big discussion about the latest attempt to takeover the Hellmouth. Tempers were short and volatile, waiting for the slightest spark to ignite an inferno of anger and badness, and having everyone in the same room at the same time with an easily accessible pile of weapons in the next room was not of the good. So the group had split for a much needed night of rest, waiting to reconvene at Buffy and Dawn's the next day.

The front door opened and Buffy stared out at Willow, hazel eyes narrowing from the morning sunshine. Or maybe they narrowed from staring at Willow. Or both. Willow tried to banish the thoughts in her head of Buffy slamming the door in her face or throwing her off of the porch or tearing her arms out of her sockets and beating her with them. Buffy had accepted her back into the fold before she left for England, but maybe feelings had changed over the past few months and Buffy now hated her for what she did, for what she tried to do. Willow mentally shook her head, trying to clear her mind from nervous rambles and wild speculation, and a half-smile appeared on her face as she said, "Hey."

A moment passed and then Buffy smiled, moving out of the doorway and gathering Willow into a fierce hug. "Hey. I missed you."

Willow nodded lamely, blinking rapidly in an attempt to curb the tears flooding her green eyes. She sniffed once and said, "I missed you, too." Pulling back, she smoothed a hand over Buffy's now tear stained shoulder and grimaced. "I went all leaky and blubbery on you. I'm sorry."

Buffy shook her head as she grasped Willow's hand and pulled her inside the house. "It's no big," she said, covertly wiping a hand beneath her eyes. "Do you want something to drink? Dawn complained last night that all we had in the house was water and blood, so we did an emergency stop at the grocery store, picked up some orange juice, soda, some sort of weird tea stuff Giles likes."

"Orange juice sounds great," Willow said as they made their way into the kitchen. She sat on one of the stools surrounding the island counter and watched Buffy pull out two mugs before grabbing the juice out of the refrigerator.

Moving over to the counter, Buffy poured the juice into the two cups and said, "You're here early."

"Yeah. Xander was a bit cranky last night. I thought it best to give him a little alone time before the big group meeting."

Buffy grimaced. "Was he pissed about the whole defending Spike thing?"

"A little. He's more confused than pissed, I think. A lot's changed since we've been gone. Faith and Anya are now best friends, which wigs Xander to no end. The only two women on the planet he's ever done the deed with are now bestest buds. Spike is back, with a soul he sought out himself. Angel and Cordelia are back in town and are apparently together, and Angel has a kid, a teenage kid, with an un-dead and re-vamped but now dusted Darla. And Wesley's trying to kill us all." Willow paused and took a sip of orange juice from her mug. "So confusion is the current state of mind for Xander." br>
"I think that's the state of mind for all of us." Buffy shook her head as she fiddled with the cup in her hands. "But enough of the crazy talk. How was England? Was the coven nice?"

Willow nodded, a bright smile appearing on her face. "Yeah. They were a bit wary at first, which is totally understandable considering, you know, the flaying and burning and almost world endage, but they were still really nice and supportive. I learned a lot about the magic, about the power inside me, how to respect it and use it without going all black eyed and psychotic." A small frown furrowed her brow. "Well, without going all psychotic. Apparently the black eyes are permanent." Willow shrugged and took another drink of juice. "I've started doing a little bit of magic again. Nothing too serious. Except for that healing spell for Faith, but that was a life or death situation there so I kind of had-"

"Wait. What was a life or death situation?"

Willow blinked. She looked at Buffy, who stared back at her, one eyebrow arched in confusion. "Giles didn't tell you what happened? How Faith almost died?"

"Faith almost died?! When did this happen?"

"About three, four days ago. She, Anya, and Xander were breaking into Tyler's and he showed up, got behind her, and slit her throat."

Realization flashed through Buffy's eyes. "That's what Dawn meant about Xander almost getting Faith killed."

"He kind of distracted her at a crucial moment and Tyler capitalized on that distraction."

Buffy smiled bitterly. "I guess Wesley and Lilah are serious about wanting us dead. First Spike and now Faith."

"What happened to Spike?"

"He was shot. With a wood bullet. Right in front of me."

Willow raised an eyebrow as Buffy abruptly pushed away from the counter and poured the rest of her orange juice down the drain. She turned the hot water faucet and began to scrub the mug, her movements' quick and fierce, steam rising from the sink as the temperature of the water increased. Willow placed her glass on the counter and slid off the stool, moving over to the sink and shutting off the hot water. "Buffy?"

Buffy jumped and the mug slipped out of her hand, clanking against the steel basin of the sink. A humorless grin tugged at the corners of her mouth as Buffy reached for a paper towel. "Sorry, Wil. I thought… I thought I was Ok with it." She finished drying her hands and tossed the damp towel in the garbage.

"Buffy? What's-"

"You're going to think I'm crazy," Buffy said, pacing the length of the kitchen. "Which I probably am but not about this. At least I don't think so because it feels right. It feels normal and sane to me, and I think it does to him too, but then we get back here and there's stakes and confrontations and now I don't know. I want it to be right and fine and chock full of happiness and goodness but this is Sunnydale and nothing is ever chock full of anything but horror and misery. And do you think I'm crazy?"

"Quite possibly." Willow moved over to Buffy and gently led her to the kitchen table. Pulling out a chair, she nudged Buffy into it and settled in the seat opposite her best friend. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it before any coherent words formed on her lips. Buffy's half-hysterical rambling rants took a few moments to process. A couple seconds passed before Willow said, "Ok. This is about you and… Spike?"

"Yeah."

"And you want it to be chock full of happiness and goodness… because it feels right?"

"Yeah."

"And this 'it' is about you and Spike being… you and Spike, like together in a couple-y way, you and Spike?"

Buffy's eyes were large, vulnerability peeking through the tough shell usually encasing the Slayer. She gnawed on her bottom lip as she said, "Yeah."

"Ok."

"You think I'm crazy, don't you, for wanting there to be a 'me and Spike?'"

"No," Willow said quickly. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and lifted her shoulder in a half-shrug. "Well, maybe a little. I think that confusion epidemic has spread to me, too." Willow drew in a deep breath and looked at Buffy. She would not judge or condemn or jump to the conclusion that her best friend needed serious therapy. This was a time to listen and attempt to understand the near incomprehensible. "So you want to be a part of a 'you and Spike.' Do you love him?"

"If I said I did, how much would it freak you out?"

"I don't know. Medium wiggage I guess. Or maybe none at all because I think you just told me you love him in a roundabout, answering the question by not answering kind of way." She paused. "Does he know how you feel?"

Buffy sighed and stood, drawing a hand through her hair as she began to pace the kitchen again. "Yes. He knows. I didn't plan to feel this way. It wasn't like I purposely wanted to fall in love with another vampire. Not after the first go round was miraculously tragic and angsty. It just happened. He just happened. Completely unexpected but feeling totally natural and right and what was meant to happen. Am I making any sense?"

Mind filling with images of Tara, of a love that wasn't planned, of a love that just happened, Willow nodded, a sad smile crossing her face. "You're making all kinds of sense."

"I don't want to have to hide whatever's going on between me and Spike. I don't want him to think I'm ashamed to be with him because I'm not. But I know the concept of a 'me and Spike' is strange to everyone here, and I don't want to freak you guys out or make you uncomfortable."

"I'm not going to say I'm not a little freaked by the idea of you and Spike because I am. The last go round for you two seemed pretty bad. But I won't tell you what you should and shouldn't do. If you think Spike's changed, and by what you said to Xander last night you do think he's changed, and if you love him, which you just said you did, then I guess there really isn't any reason for you to not be with him. Everyone'll deal. Eventually. Hopefully."

Buffy let out the breath she'd been holding. Returning to her chair, she reached out and clasped Willow's hand. "Thank you. For trying to understand."

"It's what best friends are for. I just want you to be happy."

"I think I could be with Spike."

"Then that's all that matters." Willow held Buffy's hand for a moment longer before she stood. "I should go. Let you get ready for the big group meeting thing tonight."

"You don't have to go."

Willow smiled. "I know. I have some things I need to take care of before tonight. College stuff. I'll see you later." She turned and waved goodbye to Buffy over her shoulder as she left the kitchen.

* * *

Spike banged on the door, his frustration reaching epic proportions. He mentally cursed his soul for making him be polite and offer a place to stay at his house for Angel, Cordelia, and the rest of the L.A. gang. He didn't mind the fact that the bathroom was constantly occupied or that everywhere he turned he ran into someone scurrying about or that he was awaken this morning by Lorne's rendition of Lady Marmalade. But this was too much. A bloke could only take so much before reaching the breaking point, and this was the final straw that broke this bloody camel's back.

"Angel! Open the goddamn door! Right now!"

The door to Angel and Cordelia's room creaked open, and Angel peered out at Spike, innocence plastered across his face. "Yes?"

"Where is it?"

Angel blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, do not even try the innocent act, Angelus. I know you've got it. Only you would be stupid enough to take it."

A mischievous, knowing gleam peeked from behind Angel's innocent façade. "I have no idea what you're talking about, William."

Jaw clenched and hands fisted, Spike suppressed a growl and drew in a shaky, calming breath. He mentally counted to ten, willing the urge to launch himself at Angel and rip his head off to retreat to his subconscious. He opened his mouth to speak again but an idea crept into his mind, and he smiled. Evilly. "You don't give me back my book and I'll tell Dawn all about Madrid."

A dark look crossed Angel's face, his pretense of innocence dissolving in a flash. "You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?"

Angel growled as he spun away from the door and stalked into his room. Reaching under the bed, he withdrew the poetry book and shoved it into Spike's hands. "There's your sodding book, Beer boy."

Ignoring Angel, Spike thumbed through the book, searching for the few sheets of paper stored between the pages. They were where he had left them, resting between Wordsworth and Tennyson, his first attempt in over a hundred years to compose his own poetry. Glancing at Angel, he said, "You didn't read them, did you?"

Still glowering, Angel said, "No."

Spike nodded. "Good." He walked back to the door, stopping short as Angel spoke again.

"Going to finish making yourself pretty for Buffy."

"I am not making myself pretty for Buffy," Spike said through gritted teeth as he turned back to Angel. He ran a hand over his newly shorn locks, courtesy of Cordelia and Lorne, the inevitable curls his hair turned into when it was long tamed by the short length. "I was just tired of all these curls flopping around, getting in my face all the time. It was irritating."

"Sure. Whatever you say, Spike."

"At least I'm not wearing mass amounts of cologne like you. You smell bloody ridiculous, Angelus. Here's hoping the cheerleader appreciates it 'cause everyone else within a fifteen mile radius doesn't."

"The 'cheerleader' appreciates it very much," Cordelia said as she entered the bedroom, breaking the tension between the two vampires. "Although it is a bit strong at times." Cutting off Angel's growl of protest, she turned to Spike and said, "You have a visitor."

"Who is it?"

Cordelia pointed over his shoulder and Spike turned, coming face to face with Willow. Great. When Scoobies attack, part two. Sighing, Spike edged around Willow, out of the bedroom and into the hall. He moved down the hallway to his bedroom, flipping on the light switch as Willow entered the room behind him and shut the door.

"Willow-"

She held up a hand and pointed to his bed. "Sit. Please." As Spike sat down upon the bed, she continued, "It has come to my attention that you and Buffy are more than 'just friends.'"

"Who-"

"Hey! No talking yet." Frowning at the interruption, Willow slowly walked around the room, keeping one eye on Spike and the other on his bedroom furnishings. "Now, as I said, it has come to my attention that you and Buffy are more than 'just friends.' My question to you, Spike, is what do you plan to do about this extra-friendly status?"

"What? I don't know just yet. I've only known Buffy's wanted to be more than friends for one day, and most of my attention has been focused on these people that're trying to kill us."

Willow arched an eyebrow and glanced at his short, spiky hair.

"I said most." Spike laid the book of poetry beside him as he said, "What's the deal here, Red? Are you here to warn me to stay away from Buffy?"

"No. No warning. Well, except for the one that if you hurt her in any way, I'll do worse than just stake you. And I'll make it to the head of the line first." Willow crossed the room and peered at him through narrowed eyes. "I just want to make sure your intentions are honorable. No more chaining Buffy up to walls or building another sex-bot or any of the other bad stuff that went on between the two of you last year."

Spike leaned back slightly, increasing the space between himself and Willow. He saw her eyes flash black for a second before returning to their normal green. "I don't want any of that. Ever again."

Willow nodded and continued her tour of his bedroom. "Good. Now, flowers and chocolates are decent but overdone. I wouldn't go with flowers at all. Buffy isn't particularly fond of them, especially not roses. She hates roses. The best bet is to go for original, thoughtful tokens of your affection. And original and thoughtful does not always mean weaponry, got it? Maybe-"

"Willow, what are you doing?"

"Making sure you don't screw up your second chance with Buffy. She deserves to be happy, she wants to be happy, and you make her happy."

"Oh." This was unexpected. Spike mentally amended the 'When Scoobies attack' to 'When Scoobies shock the hell out of you.' He knew Red was open minded about most things, considering she herself had been one-half of an unconventional relationship, but her helping him in his romantic relations with Buffy was nearly beyond belief. Glancing up at Willow, he said, "Thank you."

"The way you can thank me is by treating Buffy right. And this is not for you. Buffy's had enough crap boyfriends who've done what's right for them in their relationship, leaving her heartbroken and alone. You have a second chance to make things right with her, and you can't take it for granted because it could be gone quicker than you can say 'bloody hell' and you're left wishing you could do anything to go back and make things better but you can't."

Spike stood and walked over to Willow. Her gaze was focused upon another one of his volumes of literature, green eyes obscured by a curtain of red hair. "If it's any consolation," he said softly, "I'm sorry about Tara. She was always decent to me even after all the rotten stuff I'd done in the past. True compassion like that is a rarity."

Willow shoved her hear behind her ear. Eyes brimmed with unshed tears, she said, "Thanks. She… she was beautiful. She glowed, you know. Sunshine in nothing but darkness. I-" Willow broke off, a watery smile appearing on her face. "I think it's time for me to go. I have to get to UC Sunnydale, see if they'll let me re-enroll after my complete disappearance from classes last semester."

"They'll give you a second chance." Spike shifted, his eyes flickering from the floor and back to Willow. "Thank you, again. I don't deserve-"

"You know how you can thank me." Willow walked to the door. She glanced over her shoulder at Spike, a small smile on her face. "Although cutting your hair helped the thanking process. You looked weird with the soft curls. All Victorian and proper. It was a bit freaky."

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