16. Some Explaining to Do
When Xander had asked his fiancée how they knew one another, Spike had started sweating. As soon as he had seen Anyanka, Spike knew the truth would come out one way or another, but he had held a fleeting hope that she would be a little more tactful. The unvarnished words that came out of her mouth were still reverberating in his head; ‘Spike was my best client ever.’
She could have easily glossed over the truth, or simply said that they had lived together for a while and left it at that. But trust Anyanka to call a spade a spade.
As far as things he wanted his new girlfriend to hear about him, that was about at the bottom of the list. He couldn’t imagine that the whelp was very happy about it either. He was looking a little green around the gills, but Xander still hadn’t said anything. Was it possible that he hadn’t heard? Perhaps they could ignore it.
Spike turned to Anyanka. “Do I understand correctly that you’re the one engaged to Buffy’s friend Xander?”
“Yep, that’d be me.” Anya’s enthusiasm was undiminished. “See the ring? It’s 1.5 carats, and…”
“I’m glad that life’s been good to you, Anyanka,” he took her hand to get a better look at the ring. He knew if he didn’t stop her right away that she’d go on and on about the particulars, so Spike had cut her off quickly by making appropriate noises. “I’m happy you found what you wanted, pet.”
Aside from the high disgust factor of his prior relationship with Anya, Buffy thought that Spike seemed to have a knack for talking with her that Xander sometimes lacked. He didn’t give her the opportunity to prattle on about things no one else was interested in. He just interrupted when he wanted to say something. Still, Buffy knew Spike well enough to know that something in his tone was off. It was more than just the obvious embarrassment any normal person who wasn’t Anya would feel. She just couldn’t put her finger on what it was, until she saw his eyes. Spike hadn’t denied Anya’s words, but he looked like they had hurt him, although he was trying not to let it show.
“Yes, I have. And I owe it all to you!” She hugged Spike again before stepping back. “Oh, and it’s just Anya now. I gave up the name Anyanka when I gave up the business.”
Xander interrupted again, as if he hadn’t been standing there the whole time. “I take it you two know each other?”
“Oh course. Weren’t you listening? Xander, I’d like you to meet Spike. Spike, this is Xander, my fiancée.” If both Spike and Buffy were silently praying that she wouldn’t repeat her earlier words, no god heard it. “Back when I was a working girl, Spike was my best client.”
Apparently the words finally sank through the cotton in his ears this time, and Xander’s jaw dropped.
Anya continued, oblivious to the feelings of those around her. “Buffy, you are so lucky. Spike’s a demon in the sack. Many orgasms should make you much more pleasant to be around.”
When no one spoke for a few moments, Anya finally noticed Xander’s expression. She wasn’t pleased. “Stop it Xander. You knew I used to work of a living. I never lied to you about that. And I never said that you weren’t a demon in the sack too.” She patted him on the shoulder. “Of course you are! I’m marrying you, aren’t I?”
Still no one knew what to say to that.
Eventually it was Xander who regained his voice, although it came out high and squeaky. “Ahn, now that we’re engaged, could you maybe stop talking about how you used to take money for having sex with other men?”
“It’s not like it should come as any surprise to you, Xander Harris. You knew I used be a professional. Hence the sex with other men. I mean, I didn’t even know you then. It was like ages ago.” Cuddling up to Xander she lay her head on his shoulder. “You’re the only man I want now.”
Xander was beet red. If he wasn’t still so young, he might have looked ready for a heart attack. “Still, knowing about it and actually meeting someone you used to…to… well, that’s two totally different things!”
“But it was ages ago, Xander,” Anya rationalized. “It was almost five years ago. I remember it clearly, because I was so relieved to have a steady job. It was about the same time that serial killer was strangling girls in LA. Everyone at work was afraid to take a new client for months. We were always worried that maybe some random trick would turn out to be the LA Stalker, and one of us would end up dead in a ditch somewhere, or just vanish off the face of the earth.”
“I remember that.” Willow chimed in, glad for the change in subject, even if it was kind of an eerie thing to talk about. “Even on campus everyone was spooked. They never did catch that guy, did they?”
“I don’t think so. All I know is that Spike providing me with a steady job saved me from having to worry about that. He could have saved my life, Xander.” She punched his shoulder and turned Xander so that he was facing her directly. “You should be grateful that he took me in.”
“Took you in? Who said anything about taking you in? I thought we were talking about one time here – not – not…”
“Spike didn’t do things by halves, Xander. He never hired girls for the night. He kept them for at least a week, sometimes a month or more. I think I stayed the longest. I was with him for over six months.”
Xander looked like he was about ready to fall over. “Six months! You’re telling me not only did you have sex with him, but you lived in his house and slept with him repeatedly for six months?! And this is not supposed to bother me, why?”
“I didn’t get upset when you introduced me to your old girlfriend, Cornelia.”
“Cordelia.”
“Whatever.” It was totally logical to Anya. She didn’t get why the others seemed to be uncomfortable by the fact that she had once had a physical relationship with Spike. After all, they must have known that she slept with somebody while she was working the trade. “Well then, I don’t see why it bothers you so much; it seems to me this is pretty much the same thing. It’s in the past now Xander. You’re my future. Besides, Spike is with Buffy now.”
“And that’s supposed to make it better?” Xander stuttered. “The guy who was giving it to my fiancée has moved on to one of my best friends? I’m sorry, Anya. But I can’t do this. I’m not going to sit here and share a drink with a guy who has the morals of a…of a flea. Come on, let’s go.”
“That’s all right.” Spike knew when he was fighting a lost battle. “You lot stay and enjoy your evening. I’ll go.” Spike picked up and jacket and stood. Somehow he didn’t think this was going to help his chances with Buffy any. “Sorry to ruin your fun. Anya, pet, for what it’s worth, all my best.”
As Spike made his way back out of the club, Buffy turned to Willow. “Somehow I think that that could have gone better.”
As she had known it would, the evening hadn’t gone at all like anyone would have expected. Spike had shown up, Anya had opened her mouth, and the rest, as they say, was history.
Making a quick decision, Buffy grabbed up her coat and chased after Spike. She caught up to him in the parking lot. Apparently he had driven himself over.
Hearing her approach, he stopped with his key in the lock of the door. He didn’t bother to turn around to face her. “You want to shoot me now, or does the condemned man get to make a statement?”
“I don’t carry a gun, Spike.” Buffy tried to lighten the words with her smile, but he wasn’t even looking at her.
“Fair enough. Karate kick then? Or a right cross? You’ve got a hell of a punch for a girl. I know, I’ve seen it.”
“I’m not going to hit you Spike. Although the offer is tempting. I’m trying to understand why you would do such a thing.”
“Sleep with Anya? What bloke in his right mind wouldn’t want to sleep with her?”
“But it wasn’t just Anya, was it? And it wasn’t because you were dating her. You HIRED her. She was, like a pet, in your house or something. That’s just wrong.”
“Would it help if I said I’m sorry?” He finally turned around to face her and rested his back against the side of the car, cocking his head slightly as if studying her reaction to this turn of events.
“Not really. I mean, Xander is crushed… I’m just trying to understand. What would drive you to do such a thing?”
“It was a bad time for me luv. You know that.” Making a face, Spike moved to pull out a pack of cigarettes. It was one of Spike’s cardinal rules; in the face of a crisis, a good smoke always helped. Smoking cigarettes might eventually kill you, but the cigarettes themselves never intended any harm. Some how just the act of pulling one out was soothing. He decided not to light it right away, instead using it to gesture to Buffy to get inside the parked car so they could talk in private.
They sat in silence for a while. Him fiddling with the unlit fag and Buffy staring daggers at him whenever she thought he wasn’t looking.
“Dru had filed for divorce,” he began. “To say I didn’t take it well would be an exaggeration.” He wished he had brought Jonathan and the limo, because then he could have poured himself a few strong drinks while they cruised towards home. He’d left his drink in the Bronze, untouched. But there wasn’t any liquor in this car, and there was nothing for it but to try and explain.
“Buffy, there’s entire months of my life I don’t really remember.” Sighing, Spike put the unlit cigarette back in the pack. “I was on a bender for so long I couldn’t tell where one week ended and another began. Mostly I’d go out at night and pick up a bird, bring her back to the house and screw her.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Buffy flinch at his vulgarity. But the truth wasn’t pretty. “By morning I’d have forgotten her name, if I ever knew it. Then I’d crawl off to work and another round of the hair of the dog, and let Jonathan or one of the others deal with the getting the chit home.”
“And this is supposed to make me feel better?”
“No. It’s supposed to let you see that Anya and the others were better than the alternative. I didn’t know what I was doing, Buffy. I was more than half-crazy. And I did some pretty stupid things. I was drunk out of my mind most of the time, did whatever was easily available: pot, coke, meth, whatever, it didn’t matter. Some nights I’d swear I’d come home with a bird, and wake up alone. Other times the opposite. And I wasn’t being careful. I could have a dozen kids out there somewhere and not know it. I could have gotten syphilis, gonorrhea, aids.”
How much did he feel safe telling Buffy? He’d promised himself that he’d never lie to her, just like he had never lied to Joyce. But he hadn’t always told her the whole truth either.
“Finally it got to the point where I was afraid that I was literally losing my mind. That’s when I checked myself into Tara’s clinic. It wasn’t just to dry out, Buffy. I was afraid that I’d finally gone starkers, like Dru.” Again, not the whole truth, but he hoped it was close enough.
“When I came out, I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want to go back to the booze and the bimbos, so I hired some of Glory’s girls. First it was by the week, but sometimes it was longer. They kept me company, as well as providing the more obvious services. Anya’s right though, she stayed the longest. She was easy to talk to.”
“To talk to? Do you really think I’m going to believe that you paid hookers to come and live with you so that you would have someone to talk to? How stupid do you think I am?”
“Never said that’s all we did. Just why I liked Anyanka so much. A bloke always knew where he stood with her. None of this saying one thing and meaning another balderdash you bints are so bloody good at.”
He wouldn’t tell Buffy, had never told anyone, but it had hurt when Anyanka left him. She might have been his whore, but still, they’d lived together for almost a year. He had gotten used to her company and frank mannerisms. After she left, it had taken him a long time to get used to the silence. But he wasn’t going to tell Buffy that – he’d never even told Anya.
Instead he said, “After Anya decided to retire and bought the Magic Box, well, anyone else just wouldn’t have been the same. After a while I found that I didn’t need the booze or the constant companionship anymore. That’s not to say that I’ve lived like a monk since then, but at least I knew where I was and what I was doing.” He thought of the dead muggers back in New York. “At least most of the time.”
“So between Anya and Tara, they brought me back to sanity. Don’t know where I’d be without them. Probably dead in a ditch somewhere, like Anya said.” Or rotting away in prison. “So, yeah, I’ll always be fond of Anya. And if the whelp can’t handle it that’s just too bloody bad. But I hope that you can find it in you to forgive me, pet. I am a bad, rude man, and I’ve never denied it.” For the first time he turned to face her, rather than staring out the window ahead. “You bring out the best in me, Buffy. And I’ve been trying, for your sake. I’ve been trying very hard to be the man you want me to be.”
Buffy didn’t know what to say. This was a real as it had gotten between the two of them. She felt like she was finally getting to see the man behind the façade. It was also too good of an opportunity to let pass her by.
“Anything else you feel like you ought to confess to me?” She was only half kidding, but the job was ever present on her mind. “Anything else about you I should know? Other dark secrets of your past or present that you’ve been hiding?”
Here it was, then. His chance to come clean. He’d probably never get another one so perfect. “No, pet. Nothing else about me you need to know.”
Ashamed that he didn’t have the courage to completely confide in her, he finally tossed the ruined cigarette out the window. “Do you want I should take you home, pet, or do you want to go back in and see your mates some more?”
“It’s all right, Spike. Take me home.”
The ride to Buffy’s was spent in silence, illuminated by the dull red gleam of one cigarette after another.
On the way Spike decided to invite Buffy to his home next weekend. It was the one proposal from him that he knew she wouldn’t to refuse.
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