CHAPTER 6
Buffy awoke late and, recalling the brief conversation she’d had with Willow and Tara the night before, she spent the day cleaning the house for when the gang came over that night. They had a suggested a pizza and movie evening and she’d agreed thinking that it’d give her the opportunity to tell the gang about her feelings for Spike.
The day passed quickly and soon the gang were seated in her lounge tucking into three large pizza’s.
Buffy, Dawn, Willow, Tara and Anya stared in fascination as Xander's face turned from a bright red to a deathly pale and back to red in the matter of seconds.
"Man, that chilli was hot!" the brunet exclaimed as he grabbed a glass of water and downed its contents in two gulps. "I’ve gotta have another one of those!" he said, grabbing another slice of the hot pizza.
"Chilli’s don’t affect sexual performance, do they?" Anya asked the others worriedly as she watched her fiancé pop another fiery pepper into his mouth. "I can’t have Xander broken, it’s a very important night, tonight."
"Really? Why?" asked Dawn chewing on a piece of Hawaiian.
Anya looked over at Xander and he smiled back tenderly, giving an almost imperceptible nod.
"Xander and I are engaged!" she told them all in a delighted rush. When the other simple stared back at her in stunned disbelief, she held up her bejewelled hand and added, "You can congratulate us now."
Almost immediately Dawn gave a little shriek then ran over and hugged both Xander and Anya excitedly, asking if she could be a bridesmaid.
Buffy, Willow and Tara gave their congratulations in a more subdued but no less enthusiastic way. At their request, Xander told them when and how he proposed and the couple were lightly chastised for keeping it quiet for so long. Anya then told the gang that they would be setting the wedding date for a few months time and the next hour was spent finishing off the pizza and trying to dissuade the ex-demon from choosing lime green as the colour for the bridesmaids dresses.
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Spike paced restlessly around his crypt like a caged animal waiting for the waning sun to set. Normally when he wanted to venture out during the day, he used the sewers but they didn’t run in the direction he wanted to go tonight and so he was stuck.
When he'd awoken an hour before, three things had hit him at once. A blinding headache from his hangover, pain from his side and the embarrassing fact that he'd blabbed his misery out to the witches the night before.
How could he have just told them everything like that? He must have drunk more than he realised. That or they'd put a spell on him so that he’d act like a brooding nit.
He paused for a moment considering the notion then shook his head dismissively as he moved again. Deep down, he knew he'd made the admission because he wanted to. He could blame it on the drink and the pain and even a spell, and more than likely he would when it was inevitably brought up again. But in reality, the thing that had brought his words forth was the simple fact that they’d said they were his friends.
Could he be anymore pathetic?
And now, to add to his mortification, all the bloody Scoobies were going to know about it for he was under no illusion that the lovers wouldn’t keep his little revelation to themselves.
Trouble was, the Bit would probably be upset and he felt a pang of regret for causing her more pain. The witches had said they were sorry and for all he’d resisted, he couldn’t help but believe them. He suspected that the demon bird wouldn’t care less while the whelp would be rubbing his hands together in glee that the Big Bad had finally seen the light…in a manner of speaking.
And as for Buffy…well, he imagined that for all her tolerance of him lately, she would be agreeing with the boy. She might a token denial for the Bit’s sake, but he knew he’d never be more to her than a monster. He also knew that he couldn’t face her tonight, either.
The last dying embers of the day faded away and he grabbed his duster, hurrying to the crypt door. Flinging it open, he stepped out into the darkening evening and looked around cautiously. Knowing he was alone, he set off across the cemetery determined to be safely ensconced in a discreet bar he knew over the side of town long before Buffy even thought about leaving her house that night.
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The H’Numkrig demon flopped down onto a stool by the bar and ordered a beer. Willy handed him a bottle and watched as he took a swig then stared morosely at his drink.
"Problems, Saul?" Willy asked, flinging a bar towel over his shoulder and staring at his friend sympathetically.
"The usual," Saul replied with a shrug. "Demon meets human. Demon loves human. Human hates demon."
"Yeah, I hear that a lot around here lately," the bartender replied dryly. "Lana was in here yesterday. Said almost the same as you. Must have something to do with this place being on a Hellmouth or something."
Saul nodded then took another drink before saying, "I just don’t get it, you know? I mean I’m a good looking guy, right? Snappy dresser?"
Willy stared at his friend's brown, mottled skin and orange eyes in contemplation. Short horns sprouted from each side of his bald head just above his pointed ears and his attire consisted of a bright yellow shirt and green combats. "Yeah, yeah, you look great," Willy finally assured him with a smile.
"Yeah," Saul asserted half-heartedly as he drained his bottle and requested another. Willy handed one over then left him alone to serve someone else.
Taking his beer, Saul got off the stool and sat down at one of the tables. Lost in thought about his unrequited love, it took him a couple of moments to realise that someone had sat down opposite him. Coming out of his daze, he looked up to see a hideous looking man staring back at him.
"Good evening," the man said, softly.
"Who are you?" Saul asked with a puzzled frown.
"My name is, Fen," the stranger replied, his head tilting to the side consideringly. "You seemed a little…sad and I thought you might like to talk."
Saul’s immediate reaction was to tell him to get lost but the words wouldn’t come out and instead he found himself nodding.
Fen grinned in approval knowing he’d already found his next victim.
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Spike got halfway across the graveyard then stopped. There was no way he couldn't be there waiting for Buffy if she turned up. Even if he had to sit through a humiliating lecture reaffirming all his faults, it was still better than knowingly leaving her to patrol alone.
Cursing the day he ever came back to Sunnydale, he turned around and headed slowly back to his crypt.
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"Shall I put the movie on now?" asked Dawn, holding up a copy of Con Air.
There was a chorus of approval from the gang but Buffy glanced at her watch and let out a sigh. "Sorry guys, but I’ve got to go on patrol," she reminded them, deciding not to spoil the evening for the happy couple by mentioning Spike.
Xander, however, had other ideas.
"Captain Peroxide helping you out tonight, as usual?" the brunet queried mildly.
"If I ask him too, yeah," Buffy replied stiffly.
Xander nodded then sighed heavily. "And I’m guessing you will, right?"
"Xander," Willow cautioned in a warning tone.
"No Will, that’s OK," Buffy interjected quietly. She turned back to the brunet and calmly replied, "Yes, Xander, I will ask Spike to help me. He’s…"
"You like him, don’t you?" he suddenly demanded, interrupting her.
Buffy stared at him in surprise not knowing what to say. She hadn’t expected Xander to be so direct. Looking around the room, she found all eyes on her. Xander seemed as shocked as she that he’d voiced the question in the first place, her sister looked hopeful, the witches expectant and Anya appeared mildly curious.
"You know, a couple of months ago, the standard Buffy reply to that question would’ve been a look of revulsion, swiftly followed by a very prolonged, ‘Ewwww’ and a few choice phrases that included the words, ‘evil’, ‘soulless’ and ‘monster’," Xander commented, drawing Buffy’s eyes back to him.
Expecting to see him looking back at her with anger and disappointment, Xander surprised her again by sporting a small smile instead. "But like I said, that was a couple of months ago, right?" he reiterated slowly.
"I guess it was," she admitted with a tentative smile of her own.
"I knew it!" Willow suddenly exclaimed in triumph. "I knew you liked him."
"Me too!" Dawn exclaimed with a grin.
"You did?" Buffy asked, her smile widening as she felt a rush of relief go through her. Could it be that she'd underestimated her friends?
"Well, duh!" her sister replied, rolling her eyes. "The way you ran down those tower steps to go find him was kind of a give away. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you move so fast. Not even when you tried to catch me after you walked in on me in your bedroom borrowing your favourite blue sweater."
Buffy grinned at the memory then looked around at her friends. "So I take it you all don’t mind that I have…feelings…for Spike?" the Slayer asked, still half expecting an argument.
Dawn snorted and folded her arms. "I don't, but then again I told you he was hot ages ago," she reminded her sister impatiently. "About time you finally listened to me."
"Yeah, well, hot or not; ages ago Spike was more evil than he is now," Buffy responded dryly.
"That he was," Xander agreed with a grimace. "And, just for the record, I’m not saying that I don’t mind that you’ve got another yen for the undead," he added. "I still think it’s a whole world of wrong. In fact, when Willow brought the possibility to my attention the other week, I took a long trip to denial land and when I eventually got back and unpacked, I sat down and had a good long think about all the reasons why I should stake him once and for all. And there were quite a few, let me tell you," he asserted with a wry chuckle.
"Xander…" the redhead began reproachfully seeing how Buffy's face had dropped, but the brunet held up his hand to let her know he hadn’t quite finished.
Leaning forward in his seat, he clasped his hands together and rested his arms on his legs. Letting out a heavy sigh, he continued quietly, "You know, even though I don't have any fancy powers, I do still have my eyes and I use them well. I probably see more than any of you realise and when I finally got past the fact that Spike's a vampire, I started to remember other things he'd done. The beating he took for Dawn, how he helped when we had to run from Glory, how he was willing to go back to Glory's apartment even though that's where he'd been horribly tortured and that's when I realised something."
He paused and looked around at the rest of the gang, noticing that they all seemed to be waiting for him to say something bad. "He's changed," he said simply. "He's gone against everything he is and, even though I don’t particularly like him, I can't help but have a just little piece of respect for the guy." He looked at Buffy then and smiled. "He's earned it."
Buffy blinked back tears and gave her friend a tremulous smile. "Thanks, Xan. It means a lot to me that I don't have to fight you on this."
"Yeah, well, you still might have to, every now and then," he admitted with a rueful grin. "Not sure I can handle seeing anything undead hands on for a while yet."
The Slayer gave a derisive snort. "Well, considering how Spike's been acting lately, I don't think you have to worry about that anytime soon."
"What do you mean?" he asked, puzzled.
Buffy stood up and faced her friends. "Oh come on, has anyone here seen him around lately?"
"Not me," Xander confirmed with a shake of his head.
"I haven't seen him since we went to his crypt," Dawn offered unhappily.
"He hasn't been to the shop either," Anya informed them brightly. "I haven't had anything go missing from my stock for the last two weeks."
Everyone turned to the witches who looked at each other uncomfortably before Willow quietly admitted, "We have been to check up on him a couple of times."
"You have? He never said," the Slayer commented, taken aback. She sighed and began to pace the room in agitation almost talking to herself. "Then again, I don't know why I'm so surprised, I mean when we patrol the only time he opens his mouth is to tell me what I've just killed. Then, every time I ask him if he wants to come in for a hot drink, he refuses and goes to Willy's on the pretext of getting information."
She stopped in the middle of the room and stared at her friends in confused sadness. "It's like he doesn't want anything to do with me anymore."
"Oh, it's not just you," Willow exclaimed then looked horrified at how her attempt at comfort had sounded. "I mean…it's not you at all…it's him. He's decided that as he's a demon, he should stay in the demon world."
"Been telling Fangboy that for years," Xander interjected dryly. All the women turned annoyed glares on him and he held up his hands submissively. "Hey, just saying that Mr. Chip has a point."
Ignoring him, Buffy turned back to Willow. "After all these years, why would he think that now?" she asked, clearly baffled.
The two witches looked at each other again and then they both began to explain to the gang what had happened the previous night.
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Spike settled himself in his chair and switched on the television. It was nearing the time that Buffy usually arrived and he wanted to appear as nonchalant as possible. He'd decided that he'd go with being too drunk to remember anything and flat out denial should she try and force the issue.
He might not have much pride left, but he was damn well determined to hold onto what remained.
**********************
Buffy listened to Willow and Tara in shock. How could she have possibly missed the fact that Spike's current actions were due to guilt over what had happened to Dawn? The crucial moment had taken place in front of very eyes and she'd totally discarded it like day old rubbish. Closing her eyes in disbelief, she realised that she'd once again taken it for granted that, as a vampire, Spike didn't possess feelings. When the hell was she ever going to learn?
Hearing a sniffling sound, Buffy opened her eyes and looked over at her sister. Seeing the distress on the younger girl's tearful face, she went over to offer comfort in the best way she knew how, a big sisterly hug.
As the witches continued talking, telling them how Spike believed every awful word they'd ever said about him, Buffy realised that Dawn's plight had just been the catalyst for all the other damaging things that had occurred over the years. Looking at her two oldest friends' faces, she saw the same awful guilt she knew must be marring her own features.
They, too, realised that they were in some way responsible for the vampires withdrawal, although she was aware that she shouldered the majority of the blame. She had said the most despicable things to him in the past and had enjoyed his hurt expressions, regarding them as some kind of trophy. The more devastated he looked, the bigger the prize.
By the time Willow and Tara had finished their account however, Buffy's feelings of guilt began to change to ones of anger. Ok, so she'd said things in the past but so had he and hadn't she been trying hard to be nice ever since she realised her feelings? Fat lot of good it did her. And who the hell was he to decide he wasn't good enough for her when she'd finally come to the conclusion that he was? Yeah, she could understand him being upset over Dawn, but to take himself out of her world because of it?
Mouth tightening grimly, she shook her head in annoyance. "Stupid, over dramatic, pain in the ass," she muttered irately.
"Where are you going?" Dawn asked as Buffy abruptly released her then stood and walked over to the staircase.
"Patrol," the Slayer replied curtly. "And to see if I can’t talk some sense into a stupid vampire."
"I don’t think he’ll listen," Willow warned, standing up and hurrying after her friend. She'd seen the play of emotions on Buffy's face and knew the current look meant trouble. "He pretty much chucked Tara and I out of his crypt last night when we tried."
Buffy stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned to the redhead. "I’ll have to be a bit more persuasive then, won’t I?" she told her meaningfully. Grabbing her coat off the banister, she put it on then went over to the weapons chest.
"But just think about it a minute, Buffy" Willow entreated, following the Slayer across the room. "You've seen Spike pretty much every night for the last two weeks and you said yourself that he's been holding back. If you go there tonight all punchy and accusing, you might make him withdraw even further."
The Slayer paused as she bent down to retrieve two stakes from the wooden box she'd just opened. Willow had a point and as much as she wanted to try and sort things out with the vampire, she realised that if she rushed in fists first, she could make matters worse. Straightening up, she closed the chest and turned to her friend with a sigh.
"You're right, Will," she conceded grudgingly then raised her arms in a helpless gesture as she added, "But I don't know what else to do."
The redhead looked relieved and gave the Slayer a huge grin. "Don't worry, I have a plan."
Xander groaned loudly. "Your plans are about as good as your magic."
"I resent that," Willow said throwing him a hurt expression. "I haven't messed things up in months."
"Well, you're about due then," he retorted, then looked at Buffy. "I say go with the punching and accusing."
"Xander!" Willow exclaimed in exasperation.
"Hey, just my opinion," he said, innocently.
Willow turned back to the silent Slayer and looked at her expectantly. "Well? What do you say?"
Buffy eyed her dubiously. "What kind of plan?"
"One that involves secrecy and deception," the witch replied, her eyes narrowing slyly before widening again as she added eagerly, "Oh!…And the need to find you the perfect outfit."
"New clothes?" the Slayer replied, seemingly pondering the suggestion before letting a small smile cross her lips. "Sounds like my kind of plan."
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Fen watched in delight as Saul plunged the knife deep into his own heart and fell to the cemetery's ground in agony. Luring Saul to the graveyard had been too easy and although he gained sustenance from the lesser demons such as the H'Numkrig, it wasn't anything that lasted very long.
A pained gurgle brought Fen out of his reverie to see black inky blood escaping from the mortal wound and saturating Saul's yellow shirt.
Fen moved swiftly over to him and he placed his hand on the dying demon's chest, just below the knife. "Don't want to waste any, do we?" he said brightly. The blue glow started almost immediately and the blood stopped spreading. Concentrating harder, his hand acted like a sponge soaking up water and he watched in satisfaction the fluid began receding back on itself and up into his palm, feeding him.
Saul let out an agonised cry as he felt his life-force slip away. His eyes dimmed and his last thought was that his killer suddenly appeared to be even more uglier than before.
END CHAPTER 6
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