Apparently that was a yes. He so could, and once he’d regained consciousness, he did. He took one look at the smugness that was her and threw her across the room, almost blacking out again from the pain that ripped through his skull like a bitch. Or a Buffy, seeing as how she was the epitome of one.
As Buffy lay in an uncoordinated mess on her bedroom floor, she could be the big person and acknowledge it. She couldn’t blame him for being angry. She had to have the control over everything, and no amount of thinking that he would eventually love her could make her get back to believing what she’d done wasn’t pretty much what he said. Manipulative. Just call her Buffy the Vampire Manipulator.
For the first time since sleeping three days away, Buffy could feel the cold hand of doom squeezing the breath from her lungs. She’d been so arrogant, so assuming in her unrepentant chase to have Spike be the vampire that he was going to be in two years time. How could she be so dense? How could she be so cruel?
Buffy stumbled to her feet, tears in her eyes as she gathered her clothes and put them back on, cringing slightly at the overly formal wear she’d purposely chosen for her wedding. On a broken sob she tore the ring off her finger, at last accepting that this was something she’d had no right to push.
It was beyond hard to let go. To back off and wait for those years of development and realisation before Spike could truly accept her. But at least she would be ready when he finally was. And hopefully he would still have their wedding rings to return to her finger when he did know how much he loved her.
“I know you don’t believe me, but I’m sorry. It was a spell. Willow cast it hoping she could make her heart stop hurting for Oz. I knew it was going to happen and instead of stopping her, instead of helping my friend through her grief, I took advantage of her and you. I am so sorry, Spike.” She placed the ring beside his naked thigh and ran from her room and the house, longing for somewhere darker than the night to let her hide and heal.
Spike watched her go and was so glad he shook. He couldn’t stop the fury from flooding his body, couldn’t stem the thoughts he had of killing her once and for all, and really couldn’t stop the little firing pulses that were frying his synapses with each violent thought he had.
It took a long time for him to calm enough to see the ring, and as he clenched it in his fist and prepared to fling it out her window, his own caught his eye and all those feelings he’d felt under the spell flooded through him until he was so confused his fist was just clinging to the metal, almost afraid to open and let it drop. What good would it do to toss it anyway? He could pawn it for smokes and booze. That’d teach her to bollocks up his unlife with bonds that were just flailing in stupidity.
He growled savagely as he gathered up each item of clothing, whimpering and snarling as he redressed and prepared to go out and hunt.
And then he slumped in defeat. She’d buggered up his entire life. Chip. What the fuck else was there left for him to do? Binge eat pig swill while he watched soapies on the watcher’s telly? Throw snarky comments at the Slayer’s pals and then run when they came to wallop the interfering vamp?
He was monumentally screwed, no matter which way he tried to turn it. Doomed to an existence on the middle-aged couch of non-demon life.
Hang about. She knew it was a spell? She knew it was going to happen and she didn’t stop her little redheaded friend in favour of having him as her husband? Spike frowned darkly as little snippets began to surge together. She knew things, like the attack of the Chumash and bears, knew he was going to go after Peaches for his ring, knew he would get this hardware in his head that would curtail his diet unfavourably, knew the extent of his love for the one he chose to bestow it on. He knew his heart better than his own family and she knew all the spots to touch to incite his passion.
She knew everything.
With a roar of outrage and a need to punish someone for keeping him in the shadows of the dark, he shoved arms through duster sleeves and slammed out of the house, striding with angry purpose to the Watcher’s house. Bloody good thing the wanker had a decent supply of booze because he was way beyond staying sober.
The whelp and his woman were there when he barged uninvited through the door.
“Where the bloody hell is your liquor, Rupes?” Spike stopped long enough to blink at the stack of glasses and one full/one empty bottle of scotch on the table; he rushed over, filled one to the brim and began to throw it back in his throat like it was water.
“Your bloody Slayer needs to be reprimanded.” His eyes flared yellow as he spat the angry demand out.
“You won’t find anyone here to disagree with you,” was the stuffy reply and Spike huffed, all the while refilling his glass. He saw heads nodding and he felt justified as he threw out suggestions.
“A good flogging wouldn’t hurt the bint. Teach her who can fool around with…” He stalled, wondering what exactly he was going to do and trying to figure out why she would do such a thing—to him or her friends. He would never have picked her for being such a bitch to the people she loved.
“She had demons chasing my poor Xander all night,” hiccupped Anya as she reached for her glass and tipped it to her lips, frowning when the smallest drop met her bottom lip. She turned the glass upside down and looked at it in surprise, making Spike laugh at how stupid drunk humans could be.
He skulled another glassful and sank into the buzz that was making him feel pleasantly relaxed as it fractionally dulled his need for violence.
Spike jumped when a very apologetic and nervous Willow came through the hall with a tray of cookies in her hand, placing them down on the table, careful to not nudge any glasses that were sitting there.
“Spike, I am so sorry—”
“Can it, Red. Had all the sorrys I can take for one day. I just want you to do a forgetting spell so I never have to think about this repulsive day for as long as I stay undusty. No way am I wanting to remember being in love with the Slayer. An’ what the bugger possessed you to will something so bleeding stupid in the first place?”
Another long swallow slid down his throat before Spike became aware of all the eyes staring at him in horrified fascination.
“Did you say love? ‘Cause from where I was being cursed, the mighty powerful Wills only wished you guys to get married.” Xander gulped at the furious blaze of amber that stared him down, grabbing for his protective glass of intoxicating goodness. If he was going to be eaten by Spike, he may as well be all with the not sober when it happened. Then he could claim defence of stupidity due to inebriation.
The anger slipped a little as Spike looked back and forth between the two sombre looking men and the empty bottle of booze began to click into focus.
“Balls. You blokes cursed too, huh? Who’d you lot fall in love with? Oh let me guess, you both rushed off to marry each other. Bet that went down well with the local Judge.” Spike snickered and offered another bottoms up to the pair, not quite ready to let go of that image in his head. It overshadowed the small sparks of pain that were still firing with his semi-violent thoughts about the Slayer.
“Er, no. No such luck,” Giles deadpanned as he grappled for something to look at, subconsciously backing up his own night of blindness. “It appears that Willow believes I don’t see.”
He stalled her as she started another flurry of apologies and pushed back the offered tray of cookies, smiling sadly as he endeavoured to explain.
“You were right, however. I have been blind on more than the odd occasion. I do tend to ignore what makes me feel uncomfortable.” Giles settled on his good standby glasses polishing and mentally made a deal with himself to be more insightful in the future.
“Oh,” answered Spike, quite mystified about the whole thing. “So, you were blind for the night? And the whelp had demons after him. Oi, how is that new?”
“Alas, you are right, Deadboy. I am a magnet for the demon love. But these wily fellers were out to tear the Xandman to shreds. Could have been a bit more specific with the will there, Wills.”
Willow hung her head in shame, then grabbed a handful of cookies and chewed around her desire to offer more apologies.
“So, while Xander was running like a girl from the demons, you were in love with Buffy?” Anya looked at Spike all bleary eyed from over imbibing and relief that the night’s ordeal was at an end. Her orgasms would be safe from demon interruptus tonight, thank D’Hoffryn. But her interest was more than piqued. She may be drunk but Anyanka had over a thousand years of picking up on vengeful wishes and this vamp was filled with something, and it wasn’t for being made to fall in love.
“Well, yeah,” he admitted rather hesitantly, wondering now which hole these Scoobies were going to bury him in.
“But I definitely only wished you both to get married. Trust me, when Buffy told us you were going to fall in love with her in the future, none of us were leaping up and down about it.” Willow’s bottom lip pouted, knowing she was in the wrong but slightly wounded that no one yet had let her off the hook about her pain over losing Oz.
“Hang on a bleeding minute. You wanted us bloody married and that’s just the by-product. What are you so surprised about?” He couldn’t help being defensive. After the night he’d had he could be excused for wanting to rip their heads off and kick them against a wall. He was willing to bet a couple of them were totally hollow.
“Nope. Ex-Vengeance demon here.” Willow’s cringe was easily ignored at this point as Anya set the group straight. “I’ve seen centuries of marriages that were based on many things, except love. If you loved her under that spell—and really Willow, I can completely see why Hoffy was so impressed—then you were absolutely in love with Buffy. It’s more than time you got used to it. We’ve all had to.” And her lips disappeared around another cookie, the so-called ex-demon moaning in pleasurable consumption. “These are really, really good, Willow. You can make guilt cookies whenever you like.”
Spike was slack-jawed as he contemplated what was said and then felt his ire rise once again. Flashes of words and feelings flew through his mind, connecting up with declarations from Dru, predictions that had made no sense but now nearly made his brain explode.
“Bloody NO. I wasn’t ready! Couldn’t you perverse bastards have given me the time to get to know it on my own? Now I’ve got that over my head and a Slayer that thinks she can push me into any situation that will benefit her because she’s got me by the short and curlies.”
“Ewww to that imagery. Pass me another cookie, honey.” Anya crunched her way through another of the sumptuous chocolate treats and waited for further explosion, only to have her eyes widen when she saw the shine of gold on his finger.
“YOU GOT MARRIED!” she yelled as she jumped to her feet, excitement having her pounce on the unsuspecting vampire and enveloping him in a warm welcoming hug. “Congratulations. You guys could have waited, though. I’m sure Willow and I would have loved to be bridesmaids.”
“Are you bloody daft, woman?” But inwardly William was grinning, before being shoved aside by Spike who strangely lamented the loss of fanfare and confetti. A piece of paper wasn’t a marriage. Spending lots of money was and he was sure Rupe’s pockets were plentiful with the dosh for his little Slayer.
Hang about, where did that frightening thought come from? Was he actually contemplating that he could get through this situation enough that he and the thorn in his bloody side could actually walk down an aisle for real?
Those warm fuzzy feelings struck him in the gut again, almost like little skittish beetles running laps around his insides. And then he remembered the feel of her scorching hot walls surrounding his cool pole and the sweet agony of coming inside her. Bleeding hell, he was.
Well, that just tore it. He was gonna have to crawl and possibly admit he might not be so far from loving her, if she could ever get her scheming head out of her arse long enough to look at him.
Bloody hell. Love’s bitch again. When would he ever learn?
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