Transitions
By Melissa (dettiot@yahoo.com)

Disclaimer:  I don't own any of these people.  No, really.  Much as I wish,
I don't.  They're all Joss's.
Rating:  PG
Setting:  Post-Wrecked, pre-Gone in the Buffy timeline, post-Dad,
pre-Birthday in the Angelverse.

Many thanks to Cindy for the beta.

Written for the Spuffy ficathon
(http://exchanged.livejournal.com/112023.html)
This was written for americus_, who requested a season 6 Buffy/season 3
Angel setting, featuring Buffy telling Angel about Spike and Cordy and Spike
having a conversation.  I slipped in a small mention of Connor to get the
story started--I know you said no Connor, but hopefully one little mention
isn't too much!

Pretty HTMLized version available at my website,
http://lostinwonderland.org/buffy/transitions.html

**

"Can I just say, once more for the record, how much I don't like this idea?"

Angel glanced over at Cordy, then returned his eyes to the road.  "Sure, if
you accept that we're still going to Sunnydale."

Cordelia grimaced.  "You know, dumping your son on your ex-girlfriend is
pretty low.  Especially when she's dealing with coming back from the dead."

"But she's also the Slayer.  Buffy is strong, and smart-she'll understand
that she's the best choice for this.  I can't think of anyone else I'd trust
with Connor."

"So . . . you'd trust her with your son, but not with the truth about your
life now?"

Angel knew Cordy wasn't just talking about Darla.  But he chose to focus
only on Connor.  "Buffy is strong physically.  When I saw her, she still
seemed a bit . . . fragile.  But I'm sure she's fine now.  She can handle
it."  Angel changed lanes, preparing to exit off the highway onto the road
to Sunnydale.

"Buffy can handle anything," he said, ignoring Cordy's reaction of muffled
snort and eye roll.

**

Buffy sighed and looked down at the ground.  "I can handle this," she said
under her breath.  She straightened her shoulders and forced herself to make
eye contact with the vampire in front of her.

"Spike, I don't have time to deal with this."

"Sooner or later, pet, you're going to have to.  So why not sooner, then?"
Spike moved towards her, brushing against her before standing in front of
her.  She stiffened, trying not to notice how her body sang when he was
near.  How it was easier to breath, to live.

"Spike," she repeated.  "Now's not a good time.  I have to finish patrol,
then get home to check on Willow, and make sure Dawn ate dinner."

"But who's taking care of you, love?"  His voice was softer and deeper than
normal.  "Is anyone asking you how patrolling's going?  Making you dinner?"

She closed her eyes as he spoke, then felt his hand stroking her hair.
"They'll be all right, Buffy.  Worry about what you need, what you want."

"Spike . .  ." she said, ignoring the way she sounded like a broken record.
She opened her eyes and looked up at him, not caring if she looked weak.
"If you take the rest of the patrol, I'll go home and eat something.  I
promise."

Spike gazed at her for a moment, then smiled at her.  "Happy to help, love.
You scamper on home."  He leaned down to kiss her, but Buffy stepped back.
She caught, out of the corner of her eye, the hurt that flashed across his
face as she turned away and headed towards her house.

Buffy's brain was both sluggish and frenzied as she walked to Revello Drive.
She tried to go through her mental to-do list, but she kept getting bogged
down in random thoughts and tangents.  She finally gave up and focused on
making her feet move faster than a plod.

Her heart leapt when she reached her driveway and saw the big black
convertible parked there.  But it was the strangest thing-after that burst
of surprise, all she felt was dismay.  Ever since the brief, bittersweet
reunion with Angel, she had felt differently about her first love.  Like he
held her to a higher standard and wouldn't accept her falling short, no
matter how much she faced.

The slam of the front door made her realize she had been standing by the
street.  Buffy looked up to see Willow standing on the porch, looking shaky.

"You okay, Will?" she asked as she climbed the steps.

Willow nodded tiredly.  "Yeah, I'm fine.  Just wanted a break from Angel.
He's being a big Nervous Nellie."

"He say why he's here?"

"Nope.  Wouldn't say-he only wanted to talk to you."

Buffy sighed.  "Okay.  Thanks."

Willow's hand on her arm made Buffy pause.  "Cordy's here, too."

"Great," Buffy said with an eye roll, before opening the front door.

When she entered the living room, Angel was looking around anxiously, Cordy
sat with her arms crossed, and Dawn looked like she was bored out of her
mind.

"Hi, Angel, Cordy.  Dawn, have you eaten dinner yet?"  Buffy hoped that Dawn
would get the message and escape while she could.

"I was just thinking that some mac and cheese would be great!" Dawn said
excitedly, her voice grateful.

"Make a salad too, and save some mac for me," Buffy said before dropping
wearily into a chair.

Angel seemed less nervous now that she was there.  But Cordy's mood
certainly hadn't improved.  "You sure you want to pile on the carbs like
that?" Cordy asked in a pseudo-sweet voice, so like Sunnydale High's Queen
C.

Buffy was too tired to give in to the flicker of temper.  "With my exercise
level, I think I can ignore Atkins.  So, Angel, what brings you to our
lovely little Hellmouth?"

He didn't pull any punches, but dove right in.  "Well, Buffy . . . I have a
favor to ask of you."

Compared to the flicker she had just felt, Buffy now felt a burst of anger.
She dropped her eyes to the floor, wondering if she should tell him how this
was a really bad time.  Before she could respond, Angel rose from the couch
and came towards her.  "There's a baby," he said, "who is being targeted.
We've been . . . entrusted with protecting this baby, but it's just too hot
in Los Angeles right now.  So I was hoping. .."

Angel's voice trailed off, and he slipped his hands into his coat pockets.
"I know it's a lot to ask.  But could you take charge of the baby for a few
weeks, till things get calmer?"

"Angel, you're right-it is a lot to ask."  She paused, and looked over at
Cordy.  "Could we talk out on the back porch?"

"No, really, I don't mind being told I'm in the way," Cordy said grumpily.
"I'll be on the porch," she said as she left, closing the front door behind
her with a bang.

Buffy frowned.  "She's not happy about something," she said.  "So things
aren't good in L.A., Angel?"

But he wasn't paying any attention to her; in fact, he was staring at the
front door.  "Angel?" she said, waiting for his response.

"What?" he said, looking down at her.  Then, he shook his head and came back
to his senses.  "Oh, sorry.  Don't know what's gotten into her."

"Yeah, sure," Buffy said, before leaning back in her chair.  "Look, Angel,"
she said, taking a big breath, "I'm being honest with you.  Now is not a
good time for me.  Is there any way you guys can just get out of town for a
few weeks?"

Angel shook his head.  "No-things aren't good, independent of the baby
situation."

Buffy rubbed her eyes.  "Well, do I have to decide right now?  At the very
least, I need to talk to Willow and Dawn, let them know what we'd be in
for."

Angel shrugged.  "I guess so.  Cordy and I will be leaving tomorrow night."
He paused, then said, "Do you want to . . . talk?"

Buffy felt a weak little laugh bubble out of her mouth.  "'Cause talking is
what we do so well."

Angel shot her a look, then headed towards the front door.  "I better go
calm down Cordelia."

Buffy stood to walk him to the door.  As they approached, raised voices came
through the wood, and suddenly, Cordy threw open the door.  "What the hell
does Spike mean when he says he's just finished patrol?"

"Oh, crap," Buffy said, feeling all the blood drain from her face.  Because
there was Willow, cringing away from the raised voices.  Cordy stood with a
stake in her hand.  And Spike stood by the porch steps, sizing up
everything.  She knew he was formulating the perfect response that would
insult Cordy and inflame Angel, so she did the only thing she could think
of.

Quickly saying, "Willow, talk to Cordy.  Spike, stay there.  Angel, let's
talk." Buffy slammed the front door shut and then turned to Angel.  He
looked shocked, but then his shock turned into anger.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Angel growled.  "Wait, never mind-I don't
care.  But I'm sure as hell going to get rid of him."

"Angel, wait."  She managed to keep him from going out the door by blocking
his path.  "I can explain.  But you need to remember I'm a big girl, as well
as a Slayer.  I think I can take care of myself."

"But, Buffy!" Angel said, in what was almost a whine, "It's Spike!"

**

"Willow, it's Spike!" Cordy screeched.  "Remember, the guy who locked you up
in the factory, which lead to me getting shishkebobbed?  Use your magic and
turn him into a rat!"

Spike shook his head in amazement before pulling out a cigarette.  Before
Willow could respond, he piped up.  "Didn't you know?  Red's on the wagon
now."

At that, Willow's head snapped up in dismay, and then she smirked in a most
un-Willow way, as if she had decided to pick up the gauntlet.  "Spike's a
good guy now."

"Am not!" Spike said automatically, trying to inject a note of annoyance in
his voice.

"Well, then, stop those magic equals crack analogies," Willow said.

"Wait, I'm confused," said Cordy.  "Magic is crack?"

Willow looked as if she was resisting the urge to start transfiguring people
into rats, but then her expression cleared.  "I think I'm going to take a
walk.  Maybe drop in on Xander and Anya.  Be back in a bit!"  She dashed
down to the sidewalk, turning to give them a small wave before speed-walking
towards town.

Spike lit his smoke and took a drag and as he watched her go.  He saw Cordy
move to stand next to him, her body language cautious.

"Is it wise to let her go off on her own?"

"Probably not, but I don't care," Spike said, still stung a bit by Willow's
comment.

Cordy looked at him disdainfully.  "Yeah, right.  So you're fidgeting that
cigarette to death 'cause you're not at all nervous about getting Buffy's
best friend killed?"

"Huh?" Spike said, before the heat on his fingertips made him realize he had
unraveled part of the cigarette.  He groaned, and dropped it to the floor to
grind it out.  "So, Cheerleader, what brings you and Forehead to town?"

Cordy sighed and sat down on the steps.  "Angel's here because he needed to
ask Buffy to do him a favor.  I was just along for the ride."

Spike nodded before easing down next to her.  "Haven't seen you in these
parts much."

Cordy shook her head.  "I haven't been back since I graduated.  Too many bad
memories here, thanks in part to you, by the way," she said with a raised
eyebrow.

"Evil, pet."

"Right," she said with a snort.  With that, a silence fell between them.
Spike drew out another cigarette, but just twirled it around in his fingers,
while Cordy's attention was drawn to her nonexistent manicure.

"Okay, I'm curious," she said suddenly.  "You've got this crazy obsession
thing for Buffy, right?"

"Not the phrasing I'd use.  But, yeah, I've got feelings for the Slayer."

"Okay, then," Cordy said.  "So tell me, what is so damn special about Buffy
that makes the men in her life feel like she's this perfect princess who
can't take care of herself, and she's just waiting for Big Strong Man to
swoop in and take care of her?  Meanwhile, Angel's got so much on his plate,
but he's willing to let the whole world go to hell, just to see her?"

"Whoa, love," Spike said, holding up a hand.  "Don't put me in the same camp
as Captain Hair Gel.  I love Buffy, but I'm the last one to say she's
perfect.  She's too stubborn, she can't communicate for anything, and she's
deathly afraid of bollocksing things up between her and the rest of her
mates."  He paused, considering Cordelia's words again, and then softened
his voice.  "It's hard for you, isn't it?"

"What?" Cordy asked in confusion.

"Caring for Angel, when you know what he feels for Buffy."

Cordy's eyes went back to her nails.  "I know that it'll never be finished
between them.  It just annoys me that Angel won't even admit it.  If he did,
I'd know what to do.  But he won't, so I'm clueless."

"Let me give you a little insight: Angel's even more clueless than you,
love.  For all that time he spends brooding, he's the last one to understand
himself."  Spike finally lit the smoke that he had been playing with.  "If
you have feelings for the big lug, I'd say you just have to hang in there."

Cordy looked up with a small smile.  "Not really feelings.  At least not
yet.  But there's definite leanings."  Spike nodded and took a drag.

"You know," Cordy said, her eyes dancing, "you really are a good guy."

"Am not!" Spike said.

**

"I am not," Angel said grumpily.

"Angel, you're acting like a baby, which, considering your age, is really
scary."  Buffy ran her hands through her hair in frustration.  "I've
explained it all.  Spike has been helping for months now.  While I was . . .
gone, he was the one who protected Dawn."

"I can't believe Giles let Spike, of all people, take care of Dawn."

"Who else was strong enough?" Buffy pointed out, as Angel continued pacing
around the living room.

"I would have taken care of her, Buffy!  I would have been happy to do
that," Angel said earnestly.

"Yeah, but that would have meant Dawn had to move.  That would be one
upheaval too many."  Buffy sighed.  "I'm defending decisions that were made
while I was dead.  My life is too weird."

"Buffy . . ."

"Angel, Spike is on our side now, even though I can't trust him.  I mean,
he's got his chip, yes, so he can't hurt humans, but still, that doesn't
mean I've let my guard down around him.  I'm Defensive Buffy.  No need to
fear . . ."  She realized that she was babbling nervously when Angel stopped
pacing and looked at her with an assessing look.  "What?" she asked.

"What's going on here?" Angel asked.

"I don't know what you mean," Buffy said, dropping her eyes.

"I know Spike has convinced himself, for some strange reason, that he's in
love with you.  But you don't believe him, do you?  You know that it's not
real?"  Angel stepped towards Buffy, his voice anxious.

Buffy was tempted, once again, to get angry, or to deflect the conversation
back to business.  Hell, even the devilish, sounds-like-Spike voice in her
head urged her to shock Angel, to see if the truth would knock her from the
pedestal he had placed her upon.  Instead, she threw the ball back to Angel.
"What do you want me to say, Angel?"

Angel took a step back.  "Do you have feelings for Spike?"  Before she could
reply, he rushed on.  "I know it's not my business, but let me just say that
Spike can be very dangerous-is very dangerous.  But . . ."  His voice
trailed off, and then he swallowed heavily before continuing.  "But he's
incredibly loyal.  Remember what I first told you about Spike?  It's
true-when he wants something, he doesn't give up.  If that's what you need
on your side, fine.  I just want you to know that this could come back to
hurt you."

Buffy stared at Angel, annoyed, angered, and all together confused.  "I
don't understand.  First, you expect me to immediately help you, then you
get mad about the people who are helping me.  But now, you're all good sport
and go Spike."  She shook her head.  "It's just too much to process.  And
I'm too tired to try."

Angel shrugged.  "You'd have to be blind not to take one look at you and see
how overwhelmed you are.  But I was already here, so I had to do what I came
here for.  And as for Spike . . ."  Angel's face contorted with disgust.
"It's your call.  Much as I'd love to stake him, you obviously need him for
something.  I'd get rid of him, because you can't trust him.  But like I
said, it's your decision."

Buffy stared at Angel.  "Who are you, and where's the real Angel?"

Angel smiled, and pulled her out of her chair and into his arms.  The hug
was nice, she admitted.  She felt comforted.  But no tingles.  And she
wasn't that surprised to find out that she preferred it that way.

She pulled away from him, and gave him a smile.  There was something in his
face, as he turned to look towards the front door, which made her speak.
"You wanna tell me what's going on with you and Cordy?"

"What?" Angel said.  He opened his mouth, as if to deny her, only to close
it.  Then, he dropped his eyes, and took a step back.  "Um, well . . ."

She nodded.  "Thought there was something going on.  You know, I'm not
surprised, really.  She always was trying to steal you away when we first
started dating."

Angel looked up at her, with surprise on his face.  "She was?"

Buffy grinned.  "Oh, yeah."  She looked up at his oh-so-familiar face and
found herself growing more serious as she began speaking.  "Um, about Spike.
. ."

"Yes?" he said, in a long-suffering voice.

"Well . . . we've kinda gotten beyond the mortal enemies thing.  Because
he's been helping, you know.  And the whole love thing, or whatever he feels
. . . well, it's nice to have someone feel like that for you, when you don't
feel good about yourself . . . "

Angel held up one hand.  "I've got the outline.  I don't need the details,"
he said, his words flippant but his tone supportive.

"Okay," she said quietly.  "You'll be okay, with the baby and all?"

"Coming to you was a bit hasty on my part.  Cordy wasn't the only one who
didn't like the idea.  So I'll go back to L.A. and we'll figure something
out."

Angel paused, and then placed his hand on her shoulder.  "I know you're
still dealing with your . . . return, but you seem to be doing better than
you were when I last saw you.  I guess that's partly because of Spike, so
I'm glad for you.  Call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Sure, Angel."  She smiled at him.  "Guess it's time for you and Cordy to
get back to L.A.  It was nice to see you again."

"You, too."

And with that, he turned and walked out of her house.

**

She heard someone walking into the house, but she had a good feeling who it
was.  She put the last bite of macaroni in her mouth, and then turned to
look at Spike.  "So, they've left?"

Spike nodded and plopped down on the stool next to hers.  "Yep.  Swooped on
out of here on a cloud of hair products."

She couldn't help a small grin as she lifted her diet soda.  "Have to say,
this visit went better than most.  At least I didn't have to stop Angel from
beating up my boyfriend."  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she
clunked the can back on the counter, and jumped up.  "I better do these
dishes before the cheese becomes more like glue.  Have better things to do
than scrub plates."

Spike stood up quickly and slipped his duster off, placing it on the stool.
"I'll take care of it, love.  Why don't you go take a bath?"

He took her plate from her hand and moved over to the sink, starting the
water running.  She couldn't help just standing there and staring at his
back, and then she found herself speaking her mind.  "Why are you like
this?"

"Like what, love?" he asked, looking at her over his shoulder.

She moved around the island and stood next to him.  "I don't understand why
you're acting all . . . nice.  Like you're not worried sick about why Angel
was here, what we talked about, anything."

He shrugged gracefully.  "Got bigger problems on my mind."

"Like what?"

He turned slightly, his hands still sunk into the soapy water, and looked at
her as he spoke.  "Like what you need-how can I take care of you better?
Like how I keep trying to make you see that there's something real between
us.  Frankly, Angel himself, here in person?  He's not much of a threat.
But your schoolgirl belief that Angel's your one true love?  That's a fair
sight more dangerous."

She sighed, wishing a little that she could find the energy, the stamina, to
argue with him about this.  Because he was wrong-she didn't think Angel was
her one true love.  How else could you explain the fact that Angel wouldn't
stay with her and do the things that Spike did?  Spike was the one that was
here, taking care of her even better than her friends could.  And she was
grateful for that, and everything else that Spike was doing.  She didn't
know if gratitude was all she felt, and she never seemed to have the chance
to sit down and think things through.  If she could just think, she'd know
how to feel.

The sound of draining water attracted her attention, and she saw that Spike
had finished the dishes while she had been standing there lost in thought.
She looked up at him, and suddenly she knew she had to get away from him.
Because her feelings were all jumbled up, and if she stayed around him, her
feelings wouldn't care about right or wrong, but only about him.

"Well . . . I think I'll take that bath.  Um, thanks."

He nodded at her.  "Food, bath and sleep-that's what you need, Buffy."

"Okay . . . you know the way out," she said, moving away from him.  Before
she got too far, she felt his hand on her arm, and she felt that same swirl
of feelings she always felt when he touched her.  So she gave in.  She
whirled around, and dropped a kiss on his cheek, then moved to his mouth.
She wrapped her arms around him, enjoying the feel of him without that coat,
which, while incredibly sexy, kept an extra layer of clothing between her
and those arms and that chest and that back.  The heat was rising between
them, but she only let it flare for a moment before pulling away.

He smiled at her, a smile that made her knees shake more than the kiss.
"Good night, love."

"Night," she said, before turning and scurrying down the hall to the stairs.
As she darted up the stairs, she heard the front door close, and she sighed
in relief.  On the second floor, she looked in on Dawn before heading to the
bathroom.  With another sigh, she started the bath water, and got undressed.
Slipping into the warm water, she sank back and stared at the ceiling.

She had tried to forget about that night-that night when her definitions of
sex and love and passion got all mixed up and totally changed.  Most normal
people couldn't have forgotten something like that.  Who would want to
forget a night of wild, unbridled, passionate sex?  But she didn't know why
she couldn't just consider it a one-night stand and move on.  She just
couldn't seem to tell Spike that it had just been sex, and make him see that
she needed him as a friend, not a lover.  No matter how many times she told
herself that she should only treat him like a friend, her resolve melted
away whenever he was near her.

And if she couldn't convince herself that they could be just friends,
convincing Spike was certainly impossible.  He was going to keep trying,
keep pushing her to admit that she had feelings for him.  And she did feel
things for him-admiration, respect, gratitude.  But she didn't know if love
was there, and she was pretty sure that trust wasn't-not yet.  She kept
wishing she could have a weekend away, so she could think about all this
rationally.

But then she thought of that kiss, and that night, and Buffy couldn't help
the feeling that thinking rationally left a lot to be desired.

Because if she thought rationally about things, she'd never take the chance
of discovering if the one person who seemed to care the most for her was
someone she could care for, too.

End.


Melissa Rabey
dettiot@yahoo.com

My site:  http://www.lostinwonderland.org
My LiveJournal:  http://www.livejournal.com/users/dettiot/

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